


The Will to Live Comes from You

by MiniRaven



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Captain America: The First Avenger Compliant, Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Depression, Happy Ending, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Iron Man 3 Compliant, M/M, Near Death Experiences, POV Bucky Barnes, POV Steve Rogers, POV Tony Stark, Polyamory, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Present Tense, Slow Burn, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, The Avengers (2012) Compliant, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2019-08-29 06:16:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 64,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16738663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiniRaven/pseuds/MiniRaven
Summary: Soulmates exist. They bond soulmates share can only be felt on they brink of death, but they exist.Steve's know from a young age that Bucky was his soulmate. Years later, he finds out Tony is his soulmate too. Things shouldn't be this complicated, but somehow they are.Please mind the tags.





	1. Steve Rogers

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be my submission for the Marvel Big Bang, but it got away from me and is currently unfinished. And although I cannot post an unfinished fic to the collection, I still want to give my talented artist the credit and recognition they deserve. I will be posting chapters at least once a week so I can buy myself more time to finish. Hope you'll stick around until then <3
> 
>  **Point of order:**  
>  In this universe, because the soul bond is activated on the brink of death there will be a lot of mentions of death or near death experience. I'll try and add a warning before the chapter, but please monitor your own consumption and mind the tags for triggers and/ or squiks (things that makes you feel very uncomfortable).
> 
> Quick thank you Simi for being an amazing beta. This fic wouldn't be as great without your help. And thank you SilverInStars, wynnesome, demigodscum, and all my friends on Discord for being fantastic cheer readers and just encouraging me through this entire process. I'm not sure if I would have gotten this far without you.

At age seven, Steve knows his soulmate. He’s not too pleased about it, but he knows.

Steve knows him the moment Dallas punches him in the gut and kicks him to the ground. Scott is laughing like a maniac as Dallas kicks the crap out of him like the soon to be dead horse that he is. Steve’s gasping for air like a fish on land, as dirty rain water from the Brooklyn back road gets in his mouth. His asthma kicks in and his lungs close up. Steve’s vision blurs and narrows down to a single point.

He’s going to die here. He’s going to suffocate to death, leaving his poor mother even more heartbroken. She’s already lost her husband; now, she’s going to lose her son. Steve could fight, but he can barely keep his eyes open. Dallas gives him another kick to the stomach, and Steve thinks maybe it would be for the best. If he died, Sarah wouldn’t have to work as hard for Steve’s medicine. He’d stop being a burden on everyone around him. Everything would just stop, and no one but his mother would care.

The second he gives up the fight and closes his eyes, Steve feels a warm pulse under his skin. A heartbeat that isn’t his gives him air as it says, “Don’t give up. I’m coming.”

Steve looks up. Jeffery has a large plank in hand and is about to batter Steve’s head into the ground when there’s a loud yell from the street. The three boys turn just in time to see a half-eaten apple sailing through the air before it smacks Jeffery smack dab in the face.

Jeffery stumbles back, holding his reddening nose. Dallas spins around, eyes wide and foaming at the mouth like a mad dog looking for Jeffery’s attacker.

A brown haired boy only a head taller than Steve runs down the back road as fast as his legs can carry him. He gives Dallas a right hook that sends him staggering back.

Scott growls, “Why I oughta-” He pulls out a pocket knife and tries to stab the boy. But the boy is fast. He dodges the attack and knocks the knife out of Scott’s hand before elbowing Scott in the throat.

Dallas makes a dive for the knife, but the brown-haired boy kicks it away. He grabs Dallas’s head and pulls him down, knees him square in the nose.

Dallas grabs his nose with both hands and lets out a muffled scream. He staggers away from the boy as blood slips out between his fingers. Dallas glares at the boy, trying to intimidate him, but it doesn’t seem to work.

The boy gives Dallas a cocky grin. “What? You want some more?” asks the boy, putting his hands up like the boxers Steve has seen in posters.

Dallas growls, but he doesn’t approach the boy. Slowly, he gathers his crew around him as he makes his escape. “You’ll regret this, Rogers. Mark my words, you’ll regret crossing me,” he says, tail between his legs as he makes his escape.

As Dallas disappears from view, Steve lets out a wheezy sigh. Saved by the skin of his teeth.

A shadow falls over him and Steve looks up. “Hi,” the boy says. “You called for me?”

Steve blinks, confused. Steve hadn’t called for help. But the pulse he felt over the soul bond, could the boy be talking about that? Steve had heard stories of people on their deathbed calling out for the comfort of their soulmate, but he didn’t think it was true.

Did he subconsciously call for his soulmate? Is this boy telling the truth? In his mind, Steve reaches out for the fading heat and gives it a quick tug. The boy’s eyes twitch at the touch. Steve frowns. He didn’t expect a _boy_ to come to his rescue. Not that he thought anything was wrong with boys, but Steve has his pride.

“I had him on the ropes,” he says with a wheeze, trying not to let his bruised ego show. Steve tries to stand up, but he’s still lightheaded. Steve loses his balance and slips on the slick cobblestone road.

The boy laughs and offers a hand. “Sure you were,” he says with a blinding smile. “I’m James Barnes. But you everyone calls me Bucky.”

“Steve Rogers,” Steve grumbles as he takes the warm hand and pulls himself up.

“So which one do you think this is? They say there’s two possibilities: friends or lovers. Which do you think it is?” asks Bucky.

Steve looks at him, disgust on his face. “I’m seven and two thirds. How should I know?”

Bucky laughs. “Doesn’t mean you haven’t thought about it.”

Steve scowled. Of course he had thought about it! He just hadn’t spent much time thinking about what he would do when he finally found them.

* * *

 

Steve spends years thinking about it before he finally makes a decision. He and Bucky are more than just friends. They watch each other’s back. Steve gets into fights, and Bucky swoops in just in time to get him out. They keep each other warm at night when their parents die. They are two peas in a pod. Bucky is the pepper to Steve’s salt, the Clyde to Steve’s Bonnie. And if nothing else proves that their made for each other, the sex does.

It starts off as a timid, quick kiss on the Ferris wheel after a long day of picking fights and beating up bullies. Just a peck on the cheek as he and Bucky overlook the world. As soon as their feet touch the ground, Bucky pulls Steve into a dark corner, and it turns into a heated make out session against the wooden wall behind the ring toss, as multicolored lights cast shadows over their faces.

Bucky’s mouth is a furnace that engulfs Steve’s tongue in a wet heat. It makes Steve’s toes want to curl as he wraps his arms around Bucky’s neck to deepen the kiss. Bucky’s thumb lifts up Steve’s suspenders to graze the fabric over Steve’s nipple and it sends him arching back like a cat ready to yowl into the wind. Steve covers his mouth as he rubs the hardening budge in his pants against Bucky’s leg. Bucky gasps and he tells Steve that he’s gonna come, as he tries to work their belts open with one hand.

Steve claws Bucky’s back the moment he wraps his big, warm hand around both of their dicks. His teeth clench down around Bucky’s plaid shirt as Bucky rubs his hand up and down the length of their cocks. 

* * *

 

“Nothing will keep us apart,” Bucky whispers into Steve’s ear as he sinks down into the afterglow. “Nothing.”

The next day, Franklin D. Roosevelt declares war on Germany, and the United States enters another Great War. Both Bucky and Steve are in the line to enlist the morning after. They enter the recruitment tent together, but Bucky is the only one that leaves for boot camp a week later.

* * *

 

Bucky hasn’t even shipped off yet and Steve misses him like a limb. What is he going to do without his soulmate by his side? Wait by the window and sigh wistfully until Bucky returns home? Yeah, right.

He’s watched movies where Hollywood makes couples broken up by war look all romantic and shit, but Steve isn’t fooled. He may have blond hair, blue eyes, and go weak in the knees at the sight of his soulmate, but Steve isn’t some doll. He’s not some Southern belle who’s willing to spend his waiting days making a home for his man to return to. And he certainly doesn’t want to be a nurse, dressed in a crisp, white uniform, treating injured soldiers, praying that he doesn’t find his soulmate bleeding out on a bed.

Steve is a man of action. His father was in the 107th and Steve would be damned if he wasn’t too. The world needs him. America needs him. More importantly, Bucky Barnes needs him.

Steve tries to enlist three more times. Each time he signs the paperwork, it’s in a different city under a different name, hoping for a chance. Every time Steve slides his papers across the desk, he gets a 4F before he can even say a word to defend his case.

One day, Bucky sees the four rejection cards piling up by Steve’s bedside. He rips Steve a new one and tries to set him up with a dame. Steve doesn’t take to her. He knows Bucky is trying to look out for him while he’s away, give Steve someone to keep him company until Bucky comes back on leave. But Steve doesn’t want some pretty doll. He doesn’t want to be coddled and safe. He wants his soulmate. He wants Bucky.

Steve knows their only option for the future is for both of them to marry some pretty doll, have kids, and grow old, as nothing more than best friends and neighbors, but Steve doesn’t want that. He loves Bucky and Bucky loves him. Besides, all that future talk is if, and only if, Bucky didn’t come home from the war in a pine box.

That’s what scares Steve the most, feeling Bucky dying thousands of miles away in an unfamiliar place while Steve is stuck on American soil, unable to help. Steve doesn’t tell Bucky, but he has nightmares about that at least once a week. Thank God, the soul bond only relays emotions between soulmates on the brink of death.

* * *

 

The night before Bucky leaves, they go on a double date to the World Expo. After they watch Howard Stark’s flying car crash and burn on stage, Steve spies another recruitment office out of the corner of his eye. He’s hesitant to try again because of how Bucky reacted to seeing a fifth 4F, but as he looks over his shoulders and sees Bucky talking to a pretty blond, jealousy and pride flare up in his chest.

Bucky is trying to convince the pretty blond to give Steve a chance. She doesn’t look convinced. She looks more interested in Bucky and carrying his colors while he’s fighting in the war.

Steve turns his back on them, squares his shoulders, and walks into the recruitment office. Worst thing that could happen is they say ‘no,’ but Steve’s got a good feeling about this one.

Like they say, sixth time’s the charm.

* * *

 

Sixth time is the charm because instead of a regulation recruitment officer, a kind looking doctor named Abraham Erskine walks into Steve’s examination room. They briefly discuss why Steve wants to join the army (Steve steers clear of saying anything close to wanting to protect his soulmate) and something Steve says seems to resonate with the good doctor because Dr. Erskine gives Steve his seal of approval. And just like that, Steve is enlisted in the army.

Well, more specifically, Steve is enlisted in an experimental super soldier program that has layers upon layers of confidentiality agreements to adhere to. They give him a pile of paperwork to sign that goes all the way up to his waist, hand him a uniform, and send him off to basic with the expectation that he’ll wash out within a week. But little do they know, Steve’s too stubborn to wash out.

Steve works harder and pushes himself further than anyone else in the program. He can barely keep up, but Steve tells himself that’s not important. As long as he gives it his best, that’s all that matters.

And somehow, beyond all logic and reason, Dr. Erskine thinks Steve’s best is good enough for him to the first test subject in the super soldier program. Steve’s just as surprised as everyone else, but if it means he’ll get to join Bucky at the front, he’ll gladly take that chance.

* * *

 

The day of the procedure, Agent Peggy Carter introduced Steve to a barrage of people. Steve smiles and offers a polite handshake, but he can barely keep their names straight let alone remember their faces. The lab is abuzz with energy as scientists perform a final check on an intimidating machine. The one person that Steve remembers out of the sea of faces is Howard Stark.

Steve remembers seeing him at the demonstration at Stark Expo, but it’s another thing to see the man in person. From a brief “hello”, Steve can tell Howard is a decent man. Not necessarily the type of man Steve would get drinks with outside of work, but he’s a respectable enough individual. He’s smart, confident, apparently a well-respected scientist, but Howard is a little too eccentric for Steve’s tastes. He’s too loud, too boisterous, and his cologne makes Steve want to gag.

But then Steve shakes Howard’s hand and suddenly, he can understand why hundreds of ladies want to be Stark’s arm candy. His dazzling smile makes Steve feel weak in the knees and his dark brown eyes are perfect for swimming in. He’s got a natural flair about him that just sweeps Steve off his feet and leaves him feeling breathless.

Stark is called away to prepare for the procedure, leaving Steve to grapple with his strange and frankly unexpected fascination with Howard Stark. Howard is clearly a lady’s man and a relentless flirt. Very much not Steve’s type despite how much Bucky would argue Steve has a thing for mouthy brunettes. Speaking of Bucky, Steve is already spoken for. He’s not interested in replacing Bucky anytime soon. So why is it that Steve can’t shake the feeling that Howard’s cocky smirk will one day be the death of him?

* * *

 

They strap him down to a machine that’s far too big for him, and begin the procedure. They inject the super soldier serum into his body and then, fill the pod up with vita-rays. It’s not so bad at first. It’s not comfortable, but Steve’s been through worse. Then, they up the power and things get intense fast.

There’s a weird sort of pressure under his skin, like some living thing deep inside Steve’s bones has been let loose and is now trashing around the confines of his tiny body, desperately trying to break free. It feels like every cell from his head all the way down to his toes is being torn apart and remade in someone else’s image. He feels his flesh and bone growing and expanding in horrifying ways and it’s like a thousand tiny suns are trying to burn him from the inside out.

Steve wants to scream. Everything hurts so much. But Steve bites down on his tongue and wills himself to stay silent. He can’t show any weakness now. He’s sacrificed too much to be here. He’s so close to seeing Bucky again. He can’t give up now.

Then, they up the radiation to seventy percent and Steve can’t take it anymore. He screams. He’s going to explode, if not from the radiation, then from whatever it is that’s in his veins writhing and desperate to come out. His entire body is being incinerated into ash and there’s nothing he can do can stop it.

‘This is how it ends,’ Steve thinks to himself. This is how he goes. His fucked up immune system isn’t the thing that kills him. It’s his fucked up pride. Steve is going to die because of an experimental program gone wrong, his body torn into ribbons and burnt beyond all recognition, surrounded by people who don’t give a damn if he lives or dies.

As Steve accepts death and starts to lose consciousness, he feels the faint tug of the soul bond alongside the bone-shattering hum of the machine. Then, over a thousand miles away, on the other side of the world, he feels Bucky, alone and scared, but alive.

With his last breath, Steve says his goodbyes to his soulmate. They had a lot of close calls over the years, but it looks like this one is going to take.

Seconds later, he gets back an indignant pulse of energy that jumpstarts his heart. Steve doesn’t hear any words, but it feels like Bucky is saying something along the lines of, “You stupid punk. I’m the one that’s supposed to die first in this relationship. Whatever shit you’re doing, make sure you come back to me alive.”

And just like that, the skin-searing burn of the vita-rays doesn’t hurt as much as it did before. Steve’s body is still thrashing and throbbing as the cells reshape and pull him in all directions, but with Bucky’s support, Steve thinks he can make it.

Outside the pod, Steve hears people yelling in concerned voices. Steve’s vitals are dropping. He isn’t responding. They want to shut down the machine and stop the experiment.

Steve can’t allow that to happen. They can’t stop now. They’re almost there. Just a little bit more. Steve opens his mouth to scream, but it feels like a red-hot fire poker is being shoved down his throat. It hurts, but Steve grits his teeth and yells through the pain, “Keep going! I can do it!”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end. Then, the flood gates open and Steve is engulfed in vita-rays.

Steve screams and holds onto the soul bond for dear life. No matter how much it hurts, now matter how far his body is stretched beyond its limit, Steve can’t give up now. He can’t stop until it’s over or he’s dead. Bucky is waiting for him at the front. Steve’s soulmate wants him back alive.

* * *

 

The procedure works. Steve is bigger. He feels stronger. Everyone’s elated with the results. Then an enemy agent kills Dr. Erskine and steals what’s left of the serum.

Steve stops the HYDRA agent before he can escape, but the serum is destroyed in the process. The scientists pull what they can from his blood, but there’s not much hope for recreating the results. Dr. Erskine kept the formula a secret. The only clues they have to recreate it are lost in incomprehensible notes and hidden in Steve’s blood. The military is, understandably, angry. They were promised an army of super soldiers and all they got is one man.

Steve could technically join the army, but since the entire operation is classified, he’s stuck in limbo in terms of which branch of the government he belongs to. And that means he isn’t going to see Bucky any time soon.

So, they sign him up with a tour to sell war bonds. They give him a shield, a speech, and a silly uniform to get the public’s attention. And as frustrated Steve is with the whole situation, he goes with it. It’s better than working in a factory waiting for his soulmate to come home.

* * *

 

Steve walks off his latest show feeling breathless. Sure, he’s the peak of human perfection, but his cheeks hurt from smiling, his throat hurts from shouting, and his ego hurts from all the whoring he’s doing for the military.

Some of the showgirls pass by him and ask if he wants to go to lunch with them. It’s not every day they get to visit Florida, so might as well try some local food, right? Steve is about to answer when and invisible force hits him square in the gut.

Steve’s legs give out. He collapses on to the ground, shaking like a leaf as he cries out in agony. The showgirls are by his side in an instant; some rubbing reassurance into his body, others calling the nearest medic for help. His body spasms as phantom electric shocks flow through his veins. It hurts so bad. Every cell feels like a furnace and it’s burning him from the inside out. Through his soul bond, Steve feels Bucky scream for help. Steve squeezes his eyes shut and puts everything he can into supporting his soulmate.

The soul bond flares between them, but it’s not enough. The agony drowns out any help Steve can offer. All Steve can do is take some of Bucky’s pain and ride it out together. It’s worse than his darkest nightmare.

And just as quickly as it started, the pain stops. Breathless, Steve reaches out across the ocean to Bucky. He knows that soul bonds are primarily used to send help, but Steve’s heard whispers that it can send a little more. Steve doesn’t know how much more, but he hopes just enough. He prays to God and anyone else out there listening that he can find some way to help Bucky; a word, a phrase, a place, a feeling, anything that would tell Steve where Bucky is so he can save his soulmate.

It feels like years, but Steve gets what he’s looking for. Bucky sends him images of a cold, dark room. He’s strapped down to a flat surface like he’s some kind of invalid. There are too many guards outside to attempt an escape. They speak in a small variety of languages, not all of which Bucky understand. But there’s one theme that Bucky sends through the deteriorating bond.

The people in charge are Nazis.

* * *

 

That afternoon, Steve gets a call. His manager says they’re taking the show to the front. Isn’t that exciting? Hurry up and tell the girls. They need to be on the bus and on their way to the airport within the next hour.

Steve tells his manager he’s already taken care of that. The stage sets are packed up and the girls are ready to ship out. Steve pointedly doesn’t tell him that within five minutes of the soul bond breaking, Steve mobilized the entire crew and booked a seat for the first flight out of the country. Steve’s soulmate is in trouble and God help anyone that tries to stand between him and his soulmate.

* * *

 

Steve breaks into a secure HYDRA base with the help of Agent Carter and Howard Stark of all people. He finds Bucky strapped to a table, babbling his name and rank like a mantra he’s going to forget if he stops talking for a single second. His fingers spasm like he’s being shocked over and over again, and his eyes are unfocused as he stares vacantly at a light above the table. He doesn’t recognize Steve at first, but it doesn’t matter. Steve’s just relieved to see Bucky. He made it in time. Bucky is alive. He’s safe, at least for now.

Steve rips off the restraints and pulls his soulmate off the table. The moment Steve holds his soulmate in his arms, it’s like a switch in Bucky’s brain flips. His eyes clear up, and the smile he gives Steve makes the inevitable court martial completely worth it.

They kiss, but the happy reunion doesn’t last for long. The base is about to explode, and they need to evacuate with the other prisoners, now.

* * *

 

When Steve and Bucky arrive back at camp side by side like they were always meant to be, they’re met with a raucous applause. Captain America, Steve fucking Rogers, the puny kid from Brooklyn, did what everyone else thought was impossible. He got behind enemy lines and saved hundreds of POWs that would otherwise be written off and left for dead.

Everyone’s paying attention to him now. Dozens of soldiers crowd around him, desperate to congratulate him or just shake his hand. Steve’s commanding officers pull him aside and pester him with questions. How he did it? Couldn’t be luck. Had to be the serum. There had to be some sort of advanced strategy his enhanced brain created to get everyone out unscathed, right? What type of weapons were the enemy packing? What did he see while he was in the base?

Steve smiles and tells them that he’ll answer all their questions in due time. For now, he just wants to rest and debrief, because as much as Steve is grateful for their recognition and approval, that’s not the reason why he did it.

He went behind enemy lines to save his soulmate. He risked everything to save Bucky.

* * *

 

They’re alone now. Steve’s shooed away all curious eyes with the promise of information after a good night’s rest. It’ll buy Steve and Bucky time to, well, make up for lost time.

The air in Steve’s tent is cold, but neither Steve nor Bucky can be bothered to care. The second Steve hears the last soldier walk out of range, he and Bucky are on each other, kissing and touching and fucking like their lives depend on it. Within minutes, their clothes are scattered across the floor and Steve is fucking Bucky into the mattress.

Bucky lets out a sharp gasp. Steve bites down on his lip and tries to keep quiet as his thick cock pushes past Bucky’s pink rim and into the tight warmth of Bucky’s ass. Bucky closes his eyes. Each breath he takes comes out as a small cloud that floats up into the air. A mixture of drool and precome glisten on Bucky’s blowjob red lips. They’re in a familiar “oh” shape, but no sound is coming out. Steve can tell it’s taking Bucky every last bit of energy not to scream out in pleasure, but somehow, he’s doing it.

In that case, Steve’s not doing his job of giving his soulmate the best ‘I missed you’ fucking of his fucking life. Steve pushes a few more inches in, and it looks like Bucky’s self-control is about to break.

Bucky drops his face into the cot and quickly stuffs his mouth with the coarse sheets on their bed. He moans into the fabric as he rocks his hips back and forth on Steve’s cock. Now, it’s Steve’s turn to stifle a desperate sob into his hand. He closes his eyes and tries to think about something else. He’s so close. He can’t come yet. They’re just getting started.

He looks down at his boyfriend and tries to memorize each little detail. Bucky, beautiful Bucky. Brown hair plastered to his sweaty forehead and hallowed in a nest of pillows, the long planes of his back and how they feel under Steve’s rough fingers, perfectly round ass up in the air for Steve to fully enjoy, loose hole practically begging Steve to pound, destroy it with Steve’s now very thick and very energetic cock.

Bucky’s whimpers are muffled by the sheet, and Steve really wants to rip the horrid thing from Bucky’s lips. He wants to hear Bucky moan in ecstasy. He wants to hear every sound that he makes as Steve drills his cock into Bucky’s tight hole. Steve wants to watch every thought be ripped from Bucky’s head as Steve fucks him into the bed. He wants to hear each individual reaction as he relearns how to pleasure his soulmate.

But he can’t. There are thousands of soldiers still within earshot. The canvas is too thin, the tents are too close, and they can’t expose themselves like this. Not after everything they went through. They’ve been apart for too long. Steve fought through hell to get Bucky back and he’s not about to let his soulmate go now.

“Just a little bit more,” Steve whispers, rubbing a hand along Bucky’s hip.

Bucky nods. He tries to relax, but his shoulders are tense as he braces himself in the army of pillows.

Steve takes a breath and pushes himself the last few inches into Bucky’s hole. “Fuck,” Steve rasps. He’s fully seated in Bucky’s ass and it feels so right. Warm walls surround his cock on all sides.

“God, you’re so tight,” Steve gasps.

Bucky’s voice is muted by the sheet, but the intention behind the muffled words are clear. He rolls his hips against Steve and encourages him to get on with it.

Steve starts slow at first. It’s been a while since they made love. He reaches his hands around Bucky’s chest and plays with his pert nipples until his soulmate is a whimpering mess. Steve presses a trail of kisses along Bucky’s back, murmuring words of love and devotion into his skin. He rocks his cock in and out of Bucky’s ass and tries to make the moment last as long as he can.

Eventually, he can’t take it anymore. Steve starts moving faster and harder, fucking Bucky with wild abandon until he can barely contain his own cries of pleasure. The metal cot creaks under their weight. Bucky groans as Steve’s cock grazes his prostrate. Steve lets out a stuttered gasp as Bucky bears down on his cock. He buries his face into Bucky’s back and bites down on the perfect skin, sucking as he fucks and leaving a large hickey just below the neckline of Bucky’s farmer’s tan.

“Gonna come. Gonna come any second now,” Steve growls into Bucky’s ear.

“Fuck,” Bucky moans, his voice still raspy from the blowjob earlier. “Come in me, Steve. Fuck me like you’ve never fucked me before.”

Steve bites down on Bucky’s shoulder and fucks Bucky as hard as he can.

“Steve,” gasps Bucky, strands of come and saliva stretched across his mouth like a spider’s web. “Touch me, Steve. I need you to touch me, now. I need- Ah!”

Steve’s calloused hand wraps around Bucky’s cock. He runs his hand up and down Buck’s length, milking his cock until the vein underneath is red and throbbing.

“Steve.”

“Yeah?”

“I love you, Steve.”

They come together. Steve silently screams while Bucky muffles his cries in the pillows. It’s quiet and nothing like how they would make love back home. But Bucky’s here. He’s alive. And that’s all Steve needs.

“What do you think?” Steve asks. He begrudgingly pulls out and gives Bucky a few minutes to catch his breath.

“God,” Bucky gasps. His spent dick fucks the cot a few more times before he finally calms down. Steve’s thick come leaks out of Bucky’s ass. Slowly, it traces the contours of Bucky’s balls, but Bucky is too blissed out to care.

“What the fuck did they do to you?” Bucky asks between labored breaths.

Steve smirks, satisfied at the results. “You like it?”

Bucky muffles his laugh into the pillow, still wet with his spit. “ _Like_ is an understatement.”

Steve snorts. He flops down into the too small cot next to Bucky and tries to relax in the afterglow. But as he closes his eyes, the nervous energy running under his skin won’t disappear. After months of absence and so many changes, he feels hyperaware of everything around him. That includes Bucky. Every look, every smile, every hesitant touch, Steve catches glimpses of all of it. So why is this one thing bothering him more than others? Is it because they’re in the privacy of their own tent and not out in public? It shouldn’t matter, and yet it does.

Maybe Steve shouldn’t talk about it right after sex, but then again, Steve’s never been good at pillow talk.

He rolls over, propping himself up on his elbow. “What were you reaching for?”

“Hum?”

“When you came, you let go of the pillow and reached out as if you were looking for something. You’ve never done that before.”

Bucky groans. “I don’t know, Steve. Maybe I was reaching for the bedframe and missed. Got caught up in the moment. You do have a way of making a guy forget where he is.”

“But you’re not denying that it happened.”

“I’m saying, you’re thinking too much. Now, hurry up and spoon me. You’re ruining the mood,” Bucky says, rolling onto his side.

But Steve isn’t satisfied with that answer. If nothing was wrong, why was Bucky avoiding the question? Steve props himself up on his elbow and looks down at Bucky, quietly insisting an honest answer.

Steve stares at him for a solid minute before Bucky reacts. His eyebrows furrow together, and he grumbles something incomprehensible. Bucky reaches an arm behind his back and blindly tries to push Steve down.

Steve knocks the hand away and continues glaring at his soulmate, demanding they talk about this now. This feels important and Steve’s not going to let this go until they discuss what happened.

Eventually, Bucky groans and rolls over onto his back. “Fine. You want me to be honest, I’ll be honest. I don’t know why that happened. You make me feel so many things and it’s just so overwhelming. Sometimes, I forget where I am and I just-I don’t know how to describe it. Honestly, I’m not sure if I understand it myself.”

“Try.”

Bucky lets out a heavy sigh. He gingerly pushes himself up into a seated position and takes Steve’s hands in his. “Before I tell you anything, I want you to know that I love you. I love you more than anything in the entire world. You saved me. And I don’t want you to think that I’m not happy being with you. I really am.”

“But…”

Bucky takes a deep breath. He rubs his thumb against the back of Steve’s hand. “But, I just have this… feeling in my gut. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s like something is missing.”

Steve’s anger immediately dissolves. “Is it because of me? Am I not doing enough?” Steve asks. “I know I haven’t always pulled my weight in the relationship, and this new body is a lot to get used to. But I promise it’s going to get better soon. We’re together again. I’m strong now. I can protect you. You don’t have to look after me anymore. And it might take some time to adjust, but I promise I can satisfy you better than before. You saw. I’m bigger, I last longer, I don’t have an asthma attack when I get close to climaxing.”

Bucky chuckled. “Steve, it’s fine. You’re perfect. I’d even say you’re amazing.”

“Then what’s missing? Tell me, Buck. I want you to be happy.”

Bucky’s smile disappears. He looks away, almost ashamed to say what he wants.

Steve ventures a guess. “Is it something kinky? Like the stuff in those dirty mags Mr. Anderson showed us when we were, what, twelve? It might take a bit, but I think I’d be okay with that. Getting tied up with ropes or leather. I heal really fast now, so it shouldn’t be a problem. I’d do all of that if it makes you happy.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “No, nothing like that.”

“Then what? What’s missing?”

“It’s more of a feeling than a kink. And it’s really hard to describe,” Bucky says. His thumb makes small circles across the back of Steve’s hand, warming the skin. “It’s like you’re half of a jigsaw puzzle and I’m the other half. Together, our two halves make a beautiful picture of a white beach and a blue ocean with little shells scattered about just making the image glow.”

“Sounds amazing,” Steve whispers.

“It is. It’s perfect really,” Bucky says, like things really are perfect. Then, the smile disappears and his face sobers. “But then you take a closer look, and you realize a few sky pieces are missing. The picture is just fine without them. You can look at it and not realize anything is wrong. But once you notice the empty spaces, it starts to bother you. And as perfect as the picture is, there’s a quiet voice in the back of your head asking you to complete it.”

Steve hums. He pushes them both down into bed and nuzzles his nose in the crook of Bucky’s neck. “I’m not sure I understand what that means.”

“Neither do I, to be honest,” admits Bucky. “But it feels like the best way to describe it.

“When I called for you, when Zola was doing those… things, it felt like something was wrong with the bond. When you called out to me, back when you were getting experimented on like the headstrong idiot you are, pretty much beggin’ to get killed.”

“I love you too?”

“Shut up,” Bucky says with a gentle shove. Steve laughs, but Bucky goes quiet. “Back then, the bond was crystal clear, more than it’s ever been before. Like static cleared up on the radio. But when I called for you, it felt different. Like I was sending out two signals. I felt you, but for some reason I feel like I’m still waiting to hear back from someone else.”

Steve feels a knot form in his stomach. “Another soulmate?” asks Steve. It’s not unheralded of to have more than one soulmate, but it’s rare. Very rare. Like one in a million rare.

“I- I don’t know,” says Bucky. “I can’t… It doesn’t feel like our bond, Steve. It doesn’t feel like any bond I’ve heard or read about. This feels distant and abstract, like something should be there but it’s just the wind between your fingers. I can feel a bond forming, but all that’s on the other end is empty space. A great big room of nothingness. And when I trying looking into that nothingness, I feel cold and lonely.”

Bucky burrows his head into Steve’s embrace. “I’m not saying I’m unsatisfied. I’m the happiest I’ve been in a long time. I just… They did something to me in there, Stevie. I don’t know what those bastards did, but I know I didn’t feel like this before.”

“Hey, it’s okay, Buck,” Steve says, rubbing gentle circles into Bucky’s back. “I’m here. No one is going to hurt you.”

Bucky starts to shake. “I- I don’t know what to do. Maybe… maybe none of this is real. Maybe I’m imagining all this. Maybe I’m shell shocked like my dad. I don’t… They put things in my body, tortured me, tried to brainwash me, wanted to hurt me until I broke like every other soldier that went in that room before me. They didn’t want information, but they wanted _something_. I don’t know what they did to me or the bond, but everything feels different now and I- I’m scared, Stevie. What’s going to happen to us?”

“Nothing’s going to happen to us,” Steve says, tightly wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s trembling body. “We’ll be fine. We’ll fight back like we always do.”

“How?”

“Already got a plan,” Steve says with a reassuring smile. “I saw a map in the base. I’m going to tell Colonel Phillips about it, and we’re going to track down Zola and everyone else who hurt you and we’re going to make them pay. We’re going to chase that quack doctor into a corner and we’re going to make him spill his guts about everything he did to you.”

“What if he doesn’t? What if he can’t fix me? What if I feel like this for the rest of my life?”

“Then we figure it out as we go along,” Steve says. “We always do.”

* * *

 

True to his word, Steve makes sure HYDRA pays for what they did to Bucky and all the other POWs. The newly formed Howling Commandos hit HYDRA fast and hard in the places that hurt the most. They destroy supply lines, liberate cities, burn down flags, and create chaos wherever they go. They scour all of Europe for Zola’s whereabouts leaving no stone unturned. It takes months but eventually, they get a lead.

Zola is on a supply train racing through snow-covered mountains. He’s anxious, irritable, and not making good decisions. He also has some very dangerous tech with him and for once, Red Skull is nowhere in sight. The Howling Commandos zip down to the train, confident, but Steve should have known the lead was too good to be true.

Everything’s fine at first. They board the train without any problems. Steve takes the lead with Bucky at his six. But the second Steve leaves the supply car, the door slams behind him, leaving Bucky alone in the other section. Steve pulls at the handle, but it won’t budge. He hears a quiet hiss, as the door on the other end of the supply car slides open. Steve looks through the window just in time to see the bright flashes of bullets flying through the air.

Bucky turns around and starts shooting at his attacker. Steve tries at the handle again, but is quickly distracted when a man carrying weapons the size of machine guns walks into the train car. Steve makes quick work of his assailant and blasts his way back to Bucky just seconds before he runs out of bullets.

“I had him on the ropes,” Bucky says with a ridiculous smirk.

Steve resists the urge to laugh. “I know you did,” Steve says with a playful punch. Steve lets his guard down for a second, but it’s a second too long. From the door, a bright burst of energy rips through the air.

“Get down!”

Steve blocks it with his shield but he’s too slow. Instead of reflecting the blast back at his opponent, Steve redirects it into the wall of the train. The ball of blue energy explodes on impact. It rips the sheet metal wide open and throws Steve back against the wall.

Steve grunts as his head bounces off the wall. He falls to the floor, stunned and unable to move. A wave of nausea washes over him. He hears Bucky call his name, but it sounds distant. Steve grits his teeth as he tries to shake off the pain.

“Don’t let him get away,” Zola screams over the PA system. “Fire again!”

“Steve!”

Steve cracks open an eye. Bucky’s taken cover behind a stack of black cases. He’s fine, but there’s fear in his eyes. Steve looks toward the entrance of the train car and sees the masked man charging up his weapons for another attack.

“Get up, Steve!”

Steve groans. He tries to push himself up, but his arms feel like jelly. The world is still spinning around him. He can’t get up.

“God dammit!” Bucky leaves his cover. He scoops the shield up off the ground and stands between Steve and the gun.

“Bucky, don’t!”

Bucky doesn’t hear him. He pulls out his handgun and starts shooting at the guard. The bullets ping off the heavy armor, but Bucky doesn’t let up for a second. He walks toward the exposed ledge and away from Steve.

“Kill him now!” the scientist screams over the PA.

The man shoots. Blue energy rips through the air. Bucky tries to deflect the blast, but his feet are too close together and the angle is all wrong. The energy hits the shield and Bucky is sent flying out of the gaping hole in the side of the train. He hits the metal flap and falls out of sight.

“No!” Steve screams. Steve bolts up, grabs the shield, and sends it flying straight into the enemy’s chest.

There’s a loud crack as the shield bounces off the heavy armor. The masked man flies back. He lands on the floor with a loud thump and doesn’t get up again.

“Bucky!” Steve throws off his helmet and runs over to the open ledge. 

Relief and panic fill his chest as he sees Bucky swinging precariously over the mountain gorge. He has a hold on the guard rail at the far end of the broken sheet metal, but Steve’s not sure how long it will last. Bucky’s grip is slowly slipping. Frost clings to Bucky’s fingers as the mountain wind whips around them. The guard rail creeks like an old building every time Bucky tries to move closer to the train.

“Could use a hand here, Steve,” Bucky says. The guard rail shutters and drops Bucky two inches closer to death.

Without a second thought, Steve climbs out of the train car and shimmies along the guard rail. He braces his feet against the slats of metal and maneuvers down as fast as he can.

“Hang on!” Steve screams.

“Trying,” Bucky grunts. He attempts to move closer to Steve, but his feet have nothing to push against and his hands keep slipping off the bar.

Steve is at the end of the guard rail. There’s at least a foot of empty space between them. Steve reaches out as far as he can. He’s still so far away from his soulmate. “Grab my hand!”

Bucky bears down. He braces a foot on a flimsy piece of metal and reaches for Steve. The bar creaks. Steve extends his arm out, willing their hands to touch. Bucky’s fingers brush against Steve’s glove. They’re almost there. Just a little more.

The metal screams. Steve feels the tremor resonate through his entire body. There’s a flash of realization in Steve’s mind, and time seems to slow down. They lock eyes. Bucky’s face turns white with fear. Steve makes one last grab for Bucky’s hand, but it’s too late.

The bar breaks off the wall. Their fingers slip past each other and Bucky falls down, down into the icy ravine. Steve screams as he watches his soulmate fall to his death. Steve tries to call out to Bucky along the soul bond. Steve grits his teeth and wills it to manifest. But the soul bond doesn’t work like that. Bucky is not on the verge of death. He’s not stopping at death’s door. Bucky disappears from sight and falls straight into the afterlife.

Steve presses his head against the cold metal and bites down on his cries of anguish. His vision blurs as hot tears freeze on his lashes. He digs his fingers into the guard rail until the metal crumples like paper.

“FUCK!”

* * *

 

They get Zola, but lose Bucky. Colonel Phillips says the information Zola possess is worth any number of casualties. Steve vehemently disagrees.

Steve wants to go back. Maybe he landed in a snow drift. Maybe Bucky is alive. Even if Bucky didn’t make it, they can at least recover the body so his family can say goodbye. At the very least, Steve wants to say goodbye.

The brass shake their head and tell him no. This is war. There’s no time to go back for the dead. Besides, the area he fell into is too big to search. The snow must have covered him up by now. The terrain is too dangerous and the search would use up too many resources. Sorry, Cap. It can’t be done, not even for you.

Steve insists. He bangs his fists on the table and tells them it’s not good enough.

They wave him off. Tell him to debrief and take a day of shore leave. Down a bottle of whiskey in Bucky’s name if that makes him feel better. But be ready to head back out the next day. The world needs Captain America more than they need Bucky Barnes.

So, Steve does just that. He goes to the bar he and Bucky celebrated in what feels like years ago. He fishes out an unbroken bottle of something alcoholic, pulls up a chair, and pours himself a glass.

Peggy comes by to visit. She’s such a doll. She tries to make him feel better, but her words ring hollow. Everyone knows what it’s like to lose a friend. Everyone’s heard what it’s like to lose a soulmate. Peggy comforts him, not knowing Steve lost both.

Steve downs one more glass and starts formulating a plan. He’s going to pour every ounce of anger and grief into finding Red Skull and making sure he’s dead or locked away for good. It’s dangerous. Peggy says it’s suicidal. Bucky would have told him not to let his death go to waste. Steve doesn’t care. Bucky isn’t here to stop him. His soulmate is dead. What else does he have to lose?

* * *

 

Steve breaks into HYDRA’s central base, guns blazing. He fights wave after wave of soldiers like he’s got a death wish. The only reason he stops is because it’s part of the plan.

He goes to Red Skull willingly, but every word out of his mouth is sass and spite. He dares the Nazi scum to just get on with it. Is he going to kill Steve or keep monologuing like he has all the time in the world?

Speaking of time, the cavalry breaks down the windows of Schmidt’s office right on schedule. Steve chases the man down a maze of hallways with only one thing on his mind, avenging Bucky’s death.

Steve finds the hanger and watches Red Skull board the plane. He knows going after the madman is a one-way trip, but Steve goes anyway.

* * *

 

Steve defeats Red Skull. Well, “defeat” in the very loosest of sense, but no one is around to say otherwise. Point is, Skull is gone and Steve is in charge of the plane.

He grabs a hold of the steering wheel and considers his options. He’s almost at New York. The bombs are armed. There’s not enough fuel for a return trip. He can’t land safely and he can’t figure out how to shut it all down.

Steve begins to panic. Then, he looks out the window and a calm settles into his bones. A vast open sky is in front of him. The clouds and snow blend into an endless stretch of white sea. Stars are disappearing into the night as the sun rises. The world looks so beautiful from up here. Yet all Steve can think about is how alone he feels.

Steve closes his eyes and tries one last time to reach out for his soulmate.

Nothing.

Well, that answers that dilemma. Steve switches on the radio and says his goodbyes.

The cries of his friends are nothing more than white noise as he steers the plane down into the Arctic water. They beg him to find another way, but Steve’s made up his mind. Yes, he feels bad for the Commandos, but they’ll continue on without him. And while Peggy is beautiful and brilliant and Stark is an uncontainable firecracker, they’re not Bucky. They’re not his soulmate. There’s no reason to come home.

The plane hits the water like a truck; the glass panes of the cockpit cracking on impact. Steve jerks forward as the sudden stop forces the air out of his lungs. The hull of the ship creaks and breaks under the pressure.

As the frigid water punches through the metal and fills the cockpit, Steve holds onto the wheel for dear life. He squeezes his eyes and reaches out for the familiarity of his soul bond. He reaches out for Bucky’s familiar warmth, desperate for a reason to stay alive. There’s no response.

In the back of his mind, Steve hears the static of the radio and the deafening rush of water, but he feels no warmth in the darkness. There is nothing left of his world but cold and water.

Steve lies back in the chair. Water swirls around his feet. He lets out one last breath and accepts death. This time, there is no one there to tell him no. There is no one there to pull him back to the land of the living. There is no reason to live.

Steve welcomes death with open arms. Soon, he will see his soulmate again. Soon, they will be together, forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on my tumbler and see all the stuff I reblog [[link]](http://miniblackraven.tumblr.com/) or follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/MiniBlackRaven) and watch me yell this fic into existence.


	2. Bucky Barnes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is tortured. The Winter Soldier awakens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick warning for torture and canon typical violence. Please let me know if I need to add any more tags or warnings.

He survived. Somehow Bucky survived the fall. He tries to get up, but his body doesn’t respond. His right leg is broken and his left arm is mangled beyond recognition. Bucky tries to call for help, but the wind rips the words right out of his mouth. He floats in and out of consciousness, as the mountain wind slowly buries him under a blanket of snow.

One minute, he’s alone. The next, he sees flashlights roving back and forth in the distance. One of the lights blinds him and Bucky lets out a sigh of relief. ‘A rescue party, thank goodness,’ Bucky thinks as he passes out.

When Bucky comes to, he’s being carried in a makeshift stretcher. He notices a trial of blood as his left arm is dragged through the pure white snow. He’s not very concerned about it. Medics must have done a bad job of strapping him down. He casually tries to get the attention of one of his rescuers, but a cry of alarm quickly spreads through the party.

As more voices join the discussion, a slow panic begins to fill Bucky’s chest. These guys aren’t the Howling Commandos. He doesn’t recognize any of the voices. They’re not speaking English. Who the hell are they?

Someone pulls down his shirt collar and jabs a needle into his neck. Bucky grunts. He tries to squirm away, but the drug works fast. Sleep clings to his body and pulls him down into the darkness. As the snow-capped mountains merge into a blurry landscape, Bucky notices that the soldier holding the needle is wearing a familiar shaped patch. A black circle embroidered in red thread outlining the shape of eight tentacles curling out from under a red skull.

‘Fuck,’ Bucky thinks as he passes out.

* * *

 

Apparently, Bucky is a very important HYDRA asset. Whatever tests Zola had run on him all those months ago, HYDRA was over the moon with the results. Bucky is grateful because that means he gets to live, but the spark of hope quickly dies once he realizes the terms of his imprisonment.

Every day, Zola has his scientists strap Bucky to a chair and electrocute him within an inch of his life. They flood his system with hallucinogenic drugs and play a recording of lies over the PA system until he falls asleep. They deny him food until he repeats the lies they want to hear. Then, they repeat the process all over again.

They torture Bucky with every technique available to them, but they always pull him back before he can feel the sweet release of death. Bucky has no soulmate according to both Zola’s notes and the US Army’s medical record. However, HYDRA isn’t taking any chances. All it takes is one slip-up, one little mistake from a sloppy intern, and everything they’ve worked for will be destroyed.

Dr. Erskine theorized that the super soldier serum amplified everything inside a man. Dr. Zola further theorizes this “amplification” include a person’s soul bond. Meaning that, in those seconds between life and death, it is possible that Bucky could tell his soulmate the location of the base, as well as the identity of everyone who worked there. An unfortunate side effect of the serum to consider when taking into account Bucky’s “reeducation”, but easily avoidable if everyone follows Zola’s strict instructions on how to make Bucky’s mind a blank slate.

Bucky grimaces and says nothing. He wishes they would mess up. They’ve come close a couple of times. A grunt gets a little too enthusiastic with his beatings, and they have to drug him before Bucky can call for his soulmate. As they throw Bucky in the windowless cell for the night, he realizes that if it happened once, it can happen again. It’s just a matter of biding his time and waiting for the right moment.

For what feels like months, Bucky grits his teeth and fights his way through the pain. He repeats his name, rank, and serial number until his voice is horse, as the scientists try to convince him that their lies are the truth. They pump thousands of volts of electricity into his body and try to break him. Bucky closes his eyes and focused on picturing Steve’s face only inches away from his. He thinks about blue eyes and a cheeky smile. He thinks about a tiny punk who never knew when to quit and how relieved Steve will look when he breaks down the doors of the base and rescues Bucky. He thinks, prays, and begs Steve to send him even the smallest sign that he’s on his way.

But the soul bond doesn’t work like that. It stays silent and for months, but Bucky holds out hope that one day, Steve might respond to his cries for help.

Then, the worst happens.

“You put up quite a fight Sergeant. Too bad it’s all for naught,” says Bucky’s daily tormenter, as an assistant pulls the rubber mouth guard out of Bucky’s mouth. Another man, in an equally indistinguishable white lab coat, double checks the thick shackles holding him to the metal chair.

“You guys are dead, you hear me. Dead!” Bucky sputters. His fingers twitch after enduring hours of electricity being pumped into his body.

The scientists seem unperturbed. They write down some notes and turn the voltage up higher.

“They’ll find me. You’ll see,” Bucky says, because if they’re going to make it worse, might as well give them a reason for it. “Captain America will kill you all where you stand.”

The lead scientist turns and looks at Bucky. Bucky hopes to see at least a little anxiety in his eyes, but the look of confusion on his face is an unwelcome surprise. The lead scientist looks at his assistants, who both shake their head. He looks back to Bucky and says in clear, unbroken English, “Captain America is dead.”

Now it’s Bucky’s turn to be afraid. “What?”

The lead scientist rolls his eyes. “Can you not understand me through my accent? Captain America is dead.”

“Such a shame,” one of the assistants says. “We could have used him, but instead, we have you. Dr. Zola is content with you, but I personally think the copy is never as good as the original.”

“Quiet,” hisses the other assistant. “What if Dr. Zola hears you?”

“Let him,” scoffs the other. “He gets to stay in comfortable accommodations, paid in full by the SSR, while we have to toil away in the dirt down here. He gets the credit for designing the perfect soldier and yet, we get no recognition for laying the groundwork so he can execute the program.”

“I would watch my tongue if I were you,” warns the lead scientist. “Remember, all this is for the glory of HYDRA, not for something as trivial as fame or fortune.”

The assistant glares at the lead scientist. Then, like a cat knocking over a glass of water, the assistant flicks on the machine without breaking eye contact. Bucky screams. Electricity races through his body and burns him from the inside out.

“You idiot!” screams the lead scientist, as he flicks the switch back down. “What if the Asset accidentally bit his tongue? What if you killed him?”

“It’s fine. He’s still alive, isn’t he,” the assistant says with a careless air. He taps the side of Bucky’s face. “Ready to surrender, American?”

Bucky doesn’t respond. He just stares up at the ceiling, his face completely devoid of emotion.

“Oh dear. I think I broke him,” says the assistant, without the slightest bit of remorse.

“He’s probably just in shock,” grumbles the lead scientist. “Put the mouth guard in, then leave before I report you. Talking bad about a superior is one thing; going against protocol on something as important as this is another.”

The assistant tries to object, but there’s not much to say. He shoves the rubber mouth guard back between Bucky’s teeth and skulks out of the room. When the door shuts behind him with a loud bang, once again, Bucky is the center of attention.

“Now, where were we?” muses the lead scientist. “Ah, yes.”

He turns the machine on, and Bucky arches up out of the chair. For the first time since his imprisonment, Bucky gives into the pain and screams in agony.

Steve is dead. Bucky’s soulmate is dead. The only person who would know how to help him is gone. He’s all alone now. No one is going to save him. He’s going to die here, alone and without his soulmate by his side.

Tears fall down Bucky’s face, as electricity burns away the last fragments of his hope, revealing a single dark truth. Whatever their plan is, HYDRA is going to break him down into his smallest components until there’s nothing left of James Buchanan Barnes. They’ve kept him alive for this long; there’s no way they’ll allow him the luxury of death. Somehow, some way, they’re going to rewrite him into their own perfect little super soldier that they can carry out any and all of HYDRA’s needs.

Despair weighs down his body, as the electric chair turns off. Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky sees the scientists smile. They’ve finally broken him and not through any form of torture. They’ve destroyed his heart and his hope in just three words. While it’s non-traditional, it’s good enough for them.

* * *

 

James Buchanan Barnes drifts away and dies in a cell, drugged out of his mind and without the warmth of his soulmate. A few days later, in the eye of one of the worst blizzards of the decade, Winter Soldier is born.

* * *

 

Years pass, but to the Asset, it only feels like a few months. He’s sent to deal with a defecting branch of an organization he’s never heard of and doesn’t bother to ask.

The mission is simple: destroy all hope in their cause. Kill everyone on sight.

The Asset goes in with a small Strike Team, but as they storm the gates of the frozen base, they find out the intel was bad. The defecting cell is much better equipped than expected. Bullets rain down from the catwalks that stretch across the large hangers. His Strike Team is good, but they are only human. One by one, they fall to the ground dead.

The Asset pushes on. He makes quick work of the lower level grunts and makes his way up to the center of the compound. He kicks down the heavy doors and scans the room.

Yellowing papers, numerical readouts, and half-read reports are scattered across the room. Wooden figures, modeling a strategy, stand at the ready on the table. Mugs of steaming coffee fill the still warm room with their inviting scent. But there’s nary a soul in sight.

The Asset walks further into the room, his finger still on the trigger of his rifle. He’s close. The coffee stains are fresh. They’re still here.

Suddenly, a man jumps out from the shadows. He knocks the Asset upside the head and kicks his gun away. The Asset recovers. He pulls out his knife and goes for his attacker. But the defector is strong and very skilled. They fight for what seems likes hours.

The Asset is strong. He was built to be strong. But even he has his limits. Even the Asset is not perfect.

The defector gets in a lucky hit. The Asset makes a stupid mistake. The man pushes the Asset up against a wall and wraps his large hands around the Asset’s throat.

The Asset struggles. He claws at the defector’s large, beefy hands. He kicks his legs and tries to push the man away. The pressure on his throat only grows tighter. The Asset’s eyes roll backwards as he gasps for his last breath. He’s failed. He’s going to die. He’s going to die!

The Asset closes his eyes, accepting death, waiting for his throat to be crushed or the air to run out of his lungs.

Then, he feels something under his skin. A bright burst of energy like that of a second heartbeat washes over him. The Asset’s eyes snap wide open.

The Asset feels it, pulsing away under his skin. He doesn’t recognize it, but he knows what it is. He heard about it between the whispers of his Strike Team. It’s his soulmate. He doesn’t feel much (he didn’t expect to anyway) but it’s small and it’s warm and it’s calling out to him. There are no words, only a feeling, and suddenly, the Asset can’t allow himself to die.

He yells, startling his attacker. He jumps up and kicks his attacker in the gut. The defector lets go. He staggers back, holding his stomach in his arms.

The Asset gasps as air fills his lungs. He picks his knife off to the ground and stomps over to the defector. He swings the knife at the man with relentless rage.

The man’s back hits the wall and he begs for his life.

The Asset shows him no such mercy.

He lunges forward and buries the blade of the knife in the man’s chest. The man gasps, and then slumps over. The light from the defector’s eyes dims and then fades. The Asset removes the blade from his chest. Blood snakes out of the wound like water leaking from a dam.

Everyone is dead. The mission was a success.

He wipes the blood off his face with the back of his hand. As he goes to clean the blade, the warmth in his chest begins to fade away.

Panic grips the Asset’s chest. He doesn’t want this warmth to go away. So, the Asset closes his eyes and mentally holds on to the link as long as he can. It stays for a few more seconds, flickering like a dying lightbulb, and then disappears.

Taking a few breaths, the Asset collects himself. He cleans the knife, sheathes it, and proceeds to destroy any and all evidence of what transpired. With what little will he has, the Asset forces his hands not to shake. He tries to exude calm, but on the inside, he feels like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin.

The Asset has a soulmate. The Asset has someone who would reach out to him as he teetered on the edge of death and say, “No. Stay.” His heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest at any second. His legs want to run and find this person, protect this person. He wants to go against every regulation and order that has been drilled into him since the moment he became the Winter Soldier.

Then, his programming kicks in, and the joy in his step dies.

The Asset shouldn’t have a soulmate. He should be invisible, untraceable, a ghost floating in and out of time. A soulmate means the Asset has a connection to the world. No one outside of HYDRA can know the Asset exists, especially not a soulmate. Having a soulmate means the Asset has a weakness.

The Asset can’t have a weakness. Weakness can be manipulated and used against him. Weakness can cause an organization to crumble to the ground overnight. Something as powerful and as influential as a soulmate could cause the fall of HYDRA within days.

The Asset should tell his handler. They told him, if anything unusual happened, he was to tell his handler immediately. They would take care of it. They would make the distraction go away.

No. He won’t let them make the distraction go away. He has to keep this a secret. His soulmate is important and must be protected at all costs.

The Asset must tell his handler.

He has to keep it a secret.

Tell the handler!

Keep it a secret!

The Asset squeezes the edge of the wooden table until it splinters in his hand. He feels the phantom pains of electricity coursing through his mind. He tries to fight it, but their programming is too strong. He must comply. The Asset must follow orders.

He will not follow orders.

The Asset must follow orders!

He will not!

Yes, he will. The Asset **must** follow **orders**!

The Asset **must** comply!

The Asset will comply.

The Asset will comply.

The Asset will not go after his soulmate.

The Asset will notify his handler.

The distraction will be eliminated.

Conflict resolved, the Asset retrieves his gun and makes his way out of the base through the maze of dead bodies. As he walks out, his gaze lingers on the faces of his dead victims. It shouldn’t affect the Asset, seeing lifeless eyes stare blankly off into space. He’s seen worse. He’s done worse. Yet, he can’t tear his eyes away. His victim’s vacant stares mean nothing to him, but even someone as heartless as the Asset knows their death mean something to someone else.

‘Who were they?’ the Asset wonders to himself. ‘What were their lives like before HYDRA wanted them dead? Were they married? Single? Were they dating someone who would miss them? Did they have a soulmate? Did they believe in soulmates? Did their soulmate hear them as they died?’

… That last question leaves a sour taste in the Asset’s mouth. In light of recent events, he decides not to dwell on these questions anymore.

But that’s the interesting thing about minds. Swear you’re not going to think about something and suddenly, it becomes the only thing you can think about. And up until the Asset arrives at HYDRA’s rendezvous point, the only thing on the Asset’s mind are questions about his soulmate.

‘Who are they? Can the Asset find them? Can HYDRA find them? Are they strong enough to protect themselves? What if they’re not? What happens if HYDRA tracks down and kills the Asset’s soulmate? Will the Asset feel it? Will the Asset be of sound mind enough to care?’

By the time he boards the unmarked truck that will drive him back to base, the Asset doesn’t have any answers to his questions. But the Asset also knows he doesn’t need any.

The Asset is not a person. He is a tool. An extension of HYDRA’s will. The Asset has no need for things like soulmates. His handlers will wipe his mind like they always do and he will forget the warmth of the soul bond. He will forget everything that transpired, and he will forget he has a soulmate waiting for him to come home.

Forgetting, he decides, is the best option.

The Asset’s handlers take him back to their base. They sit him down in a cold chair that he doesn’t remember, but knows he hates, and strap him in. They run through their checklist and ask him if there were any complications with the mission.

The truth burbles like bile in his gut, but he bites down on it and mutters a curt, “No.”

He expects them to question it, but the attendant just checks the box and moves on.

They shove a foul-tasting mouth guard between his teeth and push him down in the chair. Two paddles lower down and press against the sides of his face. The machine begins to thrum and electricity singes his skin.

Normally, this is when the Asset would begin to panic and brace himself for the oncoming pain. This time, he squeezes his eyes shut and puts all his strength into remembering.

He tries to remember the how it felt when his soulmate called out to him. He thinks about the warmth that filled his chest and how his heart skipped a beat at the first sign of hope in years. He thinks about how small his soulmate felt and how nice it was to feel the bright bond thrumming under his skin. The Asset digs his fingers into the arms of the chair and mentally holds the vibrant memory close to his chest. He silently begs his handlers to let him have this one thing. ‘Please, don’t let me forget. Please, don’t take this away from me.’

But all his efforts will all be for naught. He knows this. The Asset knows he will forget. Just like every other time they wipe him. The Asset will forget everything. But maybe, maybe just this once, he will remember something after the wipe. Even if it’s just the shadow of a memory, he wants to remember that there is someone out there who wants him to live.

They pull the switch and he cries out in pain. He mentally reaches out for the warmth of his soulmate, but he feels nothing. He knows he’s not going to die. His soulmate must know too. But it would be nice to feel the warmth one last time before he forgets forever.

* * *

 

The Asset wakes up many times, but he never feels the warmth of the soul bond again. Sometimes The Asset remembers he has a soulmate. Sometimes he doesn’t. It’s a frustrating mystery as to why he remembers, but the Asset doesn’t have the time, space, or resources to look for answers. HYDRA has a vice grip on his life. He’s being monitored at all times and there’s no place to explore something as intimate as the soul bond.

He can’t write anything down less HYDRA discover his secret, and he certainly can’t talk to anyone about the nature of the soul bond unless he wants to get caught. The Asset is supposed to a lone agent in the world. It would be an immediate red flag if anyone found out the Asset had a soulmate.

So, despite his desire for answers, the Asset keeps quiet about the bug in his system and bides his time for a moment he’s not sure will ever come.

Then, one day, he wakes up to see the face of a young girl with piercing green eyes and bright red hair. She’s not so young that she is a child, but she is not old enough to be called an adult. Her face is soft, but her eyes are cold and haunted with death. The Asset feels a flicker of sadness that a child as young as her should have to experience the darkest parts of humanity at such a tender age.

The Asset’s handlers don’t have the same remorse for her situation. “The Red Room has imparted us with their best and brightest. She has studied under multiple mentors and killed every single one of them. We need you to train her and not die in the process. Understood?”

The Asset looks at the young girl and nods. He takes her under his wing and they begin training immediately.

* * *

 

“Focus, little one,” the Asset says. They are high up in the mountains. Snow swirls all around them as they wait for their target to emerge from a remote cabin.

“Yes, sir,” she says, correcting her grip on the gun.

They wait in silence, as always. However, as the minutes tick by, the Asset notices her eyes glass over.

“You are distracted,” he says.

She does not deny it. “Yes, sir.”

“You must focus on the mission. Not on your distraction.”

“Yes, sir,” she says. She readjusts the grip on her gun, but the look in her eyes does not change. A sign that she is still green.

The Asset resists the urge to sigh. “What is distracting you?” he asks, hand already on his knife. If she cannot ignore her distraction, the Asset will do what is necessary to rectify the situation for her.

She sees the Asset go for his knife and her body freezes up. She bites down on her lip, but she answers, just like she is trained to do. “There’s a voice in my mind. It asks for my help, and I am giving it.”

The Asset looks down at her. “A voice in your mind?”

She nods.

“You speak as if it’s not yours.”

“It’s not,” she says. “It’s my soulmate’s. He is hurting, and I am offering him my strength.”

Her gaze shifts toward him as if expecting some type of violent retaliation. The Asset’s grip on the knife tightens. He says nothing. His face remains impassive, but on the inside, the Asset can barely contain his excitement.

It can’t be true. Can it? This girl has a soulmate. This young woman has someone who would reach out to her on the brink of death and ask her for help. This is amazing! The Asset can barely believe his luck. Finally, after so many years living in silence, he’s found someone who’s like him. Finally, he’s not alone.

But this brings up so many questions. How longs has she known that she has a soulmate? How does she even know what a soulmate is? The Red Room keeps a tight grip on their student’s knowledge of the outside world. Is it possible this information is part of their training? Has to be.

What does her soul bond feel like? Does it feel warm like his? How does she know her soulmate is a ‘he’? The Asset doesn’t know if his soulmate is a boy or a girl. He only knows that ‘they’ exist.

And how is it that the Asset has only felt the touch of his soulmate once, and yet this young girl seems to be as familiar with the touch of the soul bond as she is with the gun in her hands? Is it because HYDRA shoves him in cryo whenever he’s not needed; thus, unable to feel anything?

Quite possibly.

Is this girl accustomed to the soul bond because she’s had so many encounters with death?

Most likely.

Is this the reason all her mentors are dead? Did she kill them when they found out she had a soulmate?

Most definitely.

And this line of questioning brings him to the most important question of all. Now that the Asset knows this girl has a soulmate, what should he do? Both the Asset and the girl are supposed to be alone in the world. They can’t have soulmates. Should he kill her like all her mentors before, or should he let her be?

The Asset doesn’t need to think about this question too much. He already knows the answer.

The Asset relaxes his grip on his knife and turns his attention to the lone shadow moving across the glowing cabin window. “You should tell your handlers when we get back,” he says. “They will eliminate the distraction and release you of your bond.”

Her face remains neutral, but the Asset can see the sadness in her eyes. “Yes, sir.”

“It’s for the best,” he says.

“Yes, sir,” she says. But from the softness of her voice, the Asset knows she doesn’t believe it.

They sit in silence awhile longer with only the sound of falling snow filling up the emptiness between them. Then, she looks to him and says, “I worry about the boy in my head.”

The Asset cocks his head. “He suffers?”

“No,” she says, returning her attention to the target at hand. “Not as much as me. I think about all the times I have wanted to die, and all the times he has offered strength to get me through. The Red Room’s training leaves deep scars, and I wonder if I’ve hurt him because of it.”

The Asset lets out a huff. “It is our job to hurt people.”

“Yes,” she says. “But he is special.”

“Special gets us killed,” says the Asset. And he’s not quite sure if he’s saying that for his sake or hers.

The door to the cabin opens and she leans in for the shot. “That’s why I haven’t told anyone.”

* * *

 

“Will you tell them?” she asks. Their training is complete. Both the Asset and the girl stand ready and waiting meters away from the plane that will take them back to base.

The Asset is silent. He should tell his handlers. He has been programed to report anything unusual to his handler immediately. HYDRA cannot afford for their most valuable asset to be compromised.

Instead, the Asset adjusts the heavy bag on his shoulder and shrugs. “It is a voice in your head. Not mine.”

The girl’s face is neutral, but the Asset can see a spark hope in her eyes. He walks toward the plane and she stays on his heels like a duckling and asks, “Do you have a voice?”

The Asset is quiet a moment too long to say no, but he is unsure if he trusts her with something so important. He is an assassin and she is a spy. Their world is built on deception and exposing secrets. Having a secret is dangerous. Telling a secret is the same as tempting death.

“Yes,” he replies, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

She looks like she’s about to jump out of her skin. “Have you told them?” she asked, looking to him for an example.

The Asset’s face remains neutral. “They have not asked.”

“And what if they do?”

The Asset does not dignify that question with an answer. Mostly because he doesn’t want to think about it.

If the Asset’s handlers ever ask him if he has a soulmate, the Asset will have to tell the truth. And once HYDRA knows the truth, his soulmate will be done for. The Asset is too valuable to kill, and HYDRA is not the type of organization that would destroy the last remains of Zola’s legacy just because they found a human wrinkle in their most effective soldier.

No, they’d rather track down and assassinate his soulmate than sacrifice their best asset. They’d send their most effective strike team and murder them in cold blood before the Asset can offer them his strength. Or, if his handlers have a cruel sense of humor, they’d send the Asset to do the job himself. Imagine that. The deadliest man alive killing his own soulmate. HYDRA would have a party just to celebrate the irony.

But the Asset doesn’t want to imagine that. He doesn’t want to imagine himself hurting his soulmate. He doesn’t want to kill the one person that’s giving him the will to live.

So, until it happens, until HYDRA discovers his secret, the Asset keeps his head down does as they say. He sleeps when they tell him. He kills whoever they tell him. And he protects the secret with his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your lovely comments. They means so much to me. ( ◠‿◠ )
> 
> So a bit of a status update, it looks like December is going to be really busy and I know for a fact that I won't be able to write over the holidays. Do you guys me post up one big chapter before Christmas and skip a week, or break the chapter up into two parts and post it over the two weeks I'll be away from my computer? Let me know in the comments, or I'll decide myself.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed this installment.


	3. Tony Stark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony has been alone for a long time. But only now, as he looks into the eyes of death, does he realize how truly alone he really is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! Heads up for a suicide attempt and lots of angst.

Tony is not yet a year old and he knows he has a soulmate. At the time, he doesn’t know what a soulmate is or what it means to have someone like that. He barely knows his own name. Yet, Tony knows there’s someone special out there just for him.

Tony feels it on a sunny afternoon in when he’s lying in his crib. He is staring up at the ceiling as a mobile of fighter jets circles around his bed. Then, there’s a burst of pain in his lungs. It’s sharp and electric and suddenly it feels like he can’t breathe. There’s no one around, but it feels like someone important to him is crying.

Tony wants to cry too, because that’s what infants do. But he doesn’t. Instead, Tony thinks about happy things: how soft his onesie feels, how the firm mattress supports his weak neck, how the afternoon sun warms his skin, how soothing Jarvis’ voice sounds when he talks to Tony, how nice the vibrations from his mother’s chest feels as she sings him old Italian lullabies, things like that.

The urge to cry stops. Slowly, it’s replaced by something warm and fuzzy. Tony’s face breaks into a toothless smile as he kicks the air. He lets out a happy little burble as he sends some good feelings back.

The happiness flares in his chest. Then, the feelings begin to fade away. Tony’s smile disappears. He reaches his hand up toward the planes to chase after it, but he has no idea what he’s chasing. When the warmth disappears and all that’s left is the empty nursery, Tony begins to cry. He doesn’t know what he lost, but it’s gone now. It was important and he wants it back.

He howls as loud as his tiny little lungs can manage. Mrs. Ana Jarvis picks him up and gently places his head on her shoulder. She rubs his back and whispers to him in Hungarian, but Tony won’t stop crying. He sobs for hours into her flowery dress until he runs out of energy and falls asleep.

* * *

 

When Tony is four, Jarvis reads him a picture book about the soul bond between a brave knight and a beautiful princess. It spins a romantic tale about how the knight followed the feeling of the soul bond all the way to an abandoned castle, where he slayed a five-headed dragon.

Tony takes one look at the pictures in the book and remembers something from long ago. He points to the knight and says, “Me!”

Jarvis smiles. But when Tony points to the princess and says, “Warm fuzzy”, the smile disappears. Tony babbles on about what happened that warm afternoon and, much to his dismay, Jarvis tells Tony to keep it a secret.

“But keeping secrets is bad,” says Tony.

“Yes, Master Tony,” says Jarvis. “But sometimes, secrets are necessary.”

“But what about Mom and Dad? Can I tell them?”

Jarvis frowns. “I think it would be best to wait a few years.”

“Why?” he asks. It’s his second favorite word after ‘no.’

“Because they’re not ready to hear about it yet. And, if I’m being perfectly honest, you’re too young. Your soulmate is either an inappropriate amount of years older than you, having a wretched childhood, or-” Jarvis’ face pales.

Tony looks up as Jarvis’ eyes gloss over. He’s seen that face before. It’s that look Tony sees when adults think of something bad, but never say it out loud because they think Tony is too young to understand.

“Never mind that,” Jarvis predictably dismisses. “Why don’t we read something else until Mr. Stark returns from work?”

Jarvis brings out another book about bears living in a tree, and Tony sulks. Why can’t he talk about it now? Why can’t they finish the story? It wasn’t that bad, was it? Tony likes the idea of soulmates. What’s wrong about knowing he has a special someone when he’s only a few months old? Well, it doesn’t matter. Tony is smart. He’ll find a way to work around keeping the secret.

* * *

 

At age five, Tony talks to his mother about soulmates. His mother asks why and wants to know if he’s in any pain lately. Tony says no. Maria lets out a heavy sigh of relief and says he watches too many movies. Tony shouldn’t feel his soulmate or another fifteen years or so, when both parties were grown adults. Never mind something like that now. Go outside and play with the other boys. Reed Richards and Justin Hammer are here. You like them, don’t you Tony?

Tony grumbles and stomps outside where a bunch of wealthy adults have gathered for his mother’s bi-weekly afternoon tea. They talk about clothes, gossip, unhappy marriages, and other useless things. They never once mention anything about soulmates.

Tony decides talking to his mother about soulmates is a waste of time.

* * *

 

At age six, when he’s feeling a little braver than usual, Tony talks to his father about soulmates. Howard quickly downs a glass of whiskey and calls Tony an idiot. Soulmates don’t exist. They’re just a trope that Hollywood promotes like a pimp uses his whores to help sell movie tickets. They’re the stuff of fairy tales, constructed by hopeless romantics and depressed shut-ins to give their pointless lives some sort of meaning. Stark men have no need for soulmates. Stark men are made of iron. Never talk about such useless drivel again.

Tony tries to object, but he ends up walking away with a giant bruise on his cheek. He decides never to talk to Howard about soulmates again.

* * *

 

When he’s shipped off to boarding school, the first thing Tony does with his free period is dive headfirst into research about soulmates. He’s sure there’s at least an entire section dedicated to the pursuit and study of the soul bond. Unfortunately, the truth is much different than he imagined. The school is focused on academic achievement, not fantasy. They don’t have many resources in the non-fiction section. At least, that’s what the school librarian says.

Tony politely tells her that he’ll manage.

It takes a few hours to look through every single catalogue in the building, but Tony succeeds in scrounging up a few reliable resources. There are two or three fiction books written by someone who claims to have found their soulmate, a small collection of old non-fiction books with broken spines and yellowing pages, and a scarce amount of credible research papers posted online.

It takes forever for the creaky, old printer to spit out the pages. The librarian is giving him a hard look over her thick, wire-framed glasses, but Tony pays it no mind. He gathers up his resources, checks out everything he needs, and bolts for his dorm room where an army of chips and treats wait for him. He locks the door, grabs a big bottle of water and a notebook, and starts reading.

What Tony finds leaves him with more questions than answers. According to an old field study, soulmates are just another part of human nature’s desire to procreate. It’s a way of giving people with bad decision-making skills an incentive to live long enough to reproduce. Risk takers had strong genes, good for maintaining a genetically resilient population. They just tended to go off and do stupid things on their own unless they had something or someone to come back to.

It’s great for a hunter-gatherer type of society, but in today’s world, soulmates are a very rare thing to experience. People with first world amenities didn’t have near death experiences anymore. Soldiers, fire fighters, and coal miners, maybe. But most people who live a middle class lifestyle or higher go their whole lives without feeling their soulmate.

Well, Tony could figure  _ that _ out on his own. What he wants to know was how to track down his soulmate. It’s been over a decade since his soulmate reached out to him, and Tony’s starting to get worried. What if Jarvis is right and his soulmate died? It isn’t like Tony remembers what it felt like to feel the pull of his soulmate. All he has now is a badly written diary entry about wanting to find them. Go baby Tony for having the foresight for writing it down.

Either way, Tony wants to know how to find them. There’s someone special out there, just for him, and Tony isn’t about to let them down.

He spends hours reading and rereading documents, through the weekend and late into the night. When the hall monitor knocks on his dorm door Monday morning, Tony has to acknowledge the very unfortunate conclusion his resources had provided.

There is no good way to find your soulmate. Maybe you save them on the brink of death and can confirm it in person with a quick back and forth pulse (like Tony did when he was a baby), but that’s it. Unless you were actively dying, you could pass them on the street and not even know you were meant to be together.

Tony briefly entertains the idea of inventing a machine that would allow him to skate the edge of death long enough to find his soulmate, but he quickly dismisses it with a shake of his head. As cool and useful as that would be, he can’t do that here. Too many people. Too many prying eyes. If one of the teachers found his machine and discovered what it was for, they would send him to a shrink and dismantle it without a second thought.

Tony can’t have that happen. This is his first year at boarding school. He has a reputation to uphold, even if it’s one of a very smart, very spoiled rich kid.

Until he’s completely on his own, Tony will just have to hope they’ll meet up in the old-fashioned way: awkward flirting at the punch bowl of a party or club, or a life or death accident. Might be a little extreme, but he’s good with either. And that’s not a bad thing.

Tony wants to find his soulmate, but Tony also wants to live. For the first time in ten years, life is finally turning in his favor. He’s at boarding school, away from the toxic energy of his parents. And sure, he has obligations like classes and homework and curfews, but there are some benefits too. Tony doesn’t have to listen to a drunken Howard ramble on about how much a disappointment Tony is to the Stark name anymore. He doesn’t have to sit at the same table as his mother while she drops vague hints about how she’s very disappointed with Howard’s disrespect for everyone that isn’t his business partner. Eating a mediocre dinner in a noisy cafeteria is leagues above eating a fancy meal amid the tense silence of his parents.

And yes, Tony knows all too well the real reason why Howard sent him away. He’s loud and obnoxious and a nuisance and it hurts that Howard things about him that way. But, like Jarvis suggested, Tony is trying to look at boarding school as a blessing more than a curse. This is a chance to explore himself, test things out, maybe even blow things up that Jarvis would never let get within ten feet of. Maybe he’ll make some actual friends. Maybe Tony will finally build that helper robot he’s been dying to create.

Whatever happens, Tony is feeling optimistic. He’s ready to welcome this world of opportunities with open arms, with or without his soulmate.

* * *

 

Tony’s in college when his parents die in the worst way possible. A fucking car accident. Tony had always hoped that his mother would die peacefully in their family home and his father would burn in a fire of his own making. Apparently, the universe thought that was too unreasonable.

A car accident is a disservice to them both.

Tony attends the funeral with Jarvis and his Uncle Obie by his side. Hundreds of people attend the funeral to pay their respects to the elder Starks, and offer the future CEO of Stark Industries their “sincerest condolences.” Tony smiles and accepts their condolences, but their empty words make him gag.

They’re not here to honor the dead. They’re here to pay lip service to Tony just in case the younger Stark is naive enough to trust them with his new-found power. This is their chance to get ahead. And while Tony may have hated his father and resented his mother, he at least has enough respect not to use a fucking wake as a means of cozying up with the future boss.

And just because Tony inherited his wealth doesn’t mean he’s an idiot. He’s been training for this day his entire life. Tony can spot an opportunistic asshole a mile away, and they’re already on his shit list before they can even say, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

No, you’re not, but Tony is very sorry that you’ll be losing your job by the end of the month. Hope your retirement plan is decent, because by the time Tony’s done with you, security will be escorting you out of the building with nothing but the clothes on your back. Sorry for your loss, you opportunistic fuck!

Uncle Obie tries to talk Tony down on the way back to the mansion. He tries to convince Tony it isn’t worth the effort to fire and hire a new board of directors, but Tony doesn’t want to hear it. He never wanted this money, this power, or to inherit his father’s empire. He never wanted people to cozy up to him just because he happens to be the sole heir of Howard Stark.

The only thing Tony wanted was to party like there was no tomorrow and invent like his life depended on it. Fuck everyone that’s trying to get into his good graces! His parents are dead. His life is shit. You can take your condolences and shove them straight up your ass. He doesn’t care who the fuck takes control of Stark Industries as long as people leave him the fuck alone!

Tony slams the door to his room with enough force to knock his old science fair trophies off the wall. He flops into bed, buries his head in his pillow, and screams until his voice turns horse. And then, because Howard isn’t around to bang on Tony’s door and demand that he “shut the hell up,” Tony screams some more.

A few hours later, Jarvis knocks on his door and asks if Tony would like to come down for dinner. He made carbonara, Tony’s favorite. And he even broke out the expensive chocolate for Ana’s special chocolate chip cookies. They’re fresh from the oven and smell delicious. “Would you like some, sir?”

Tony shakes his head and says no. He’s too tired for eat. He can’t even muster the energy to get out of bed. He feels cold and alone and confused and just so empty.

Jarvis hums. He understands. He says it’s grief. It’s a normal thing to feel after someone important in your life has died. It can be angry and intense or slow and gradual, but all types of grief are real and valid.

Tony doesn’t say anything. He understands what Jarvis is saying. The therapist Obie insisted Tony visit said something similar. But Tony doesn’t think Jarvis right about this one. ‘Grief’ is too small and too simple of a word to encapsulate the intense feelings swarming in his chest. There has to be something more. There has to be a better word in the English language that encapsulates this pit of angry, violent nothingness he’s trapped in. Every day is a rollercoaster of nameless emotions and Tony’s not sure where he gets off.

There has to be something else wrong with him. There has to be something more than grief keeping him up at night, clawing at his heart like a damn animal dead set on destroying the softest, most vulnerable part of his soul. There has to be a reason why everything makes him angry and nothing makes him happy. There has to be something else pulling him down into this bottomless pit of despair. There has to be. There just has to be!

… Tony wishes he knew who his soulmate was.

He’s been thinking about them a lot since his parents died. He wishes they were here to help him through this. Surely they, of all people, would know what’s wrong with him.

And if they didn’t, that’s okay. Tony just wishes they were here with him so he would feel less alone. He wishes they were here so the two of them could ride out this rollercoaster of events out together. Didn’t matter if his soulmate was physically close and able to wrap their arms around his shoulders, or if they were little more than a voice on the other side of a long distance phone call. Having them close by would be more than enough.

And sure, Tony hasn’t felt the soul bond in years, but he’s sure they would be more than willing to offer him support in whatever way they could. They’re his soulmate. The person who is supposed to be by his side through thick and thin. The one person who understands him better than anyone else. Of course they would be there for him.

They absolutely would.

Obviously.

He’s like eighty percent sure they would.

… At least, he thinks so.

… He hopes so.

He really, really hopes so.

* * *

 

But, as they say, time waits for no man.

The next day, Tony wipes the tears from his eyes, puts on a three piece suit, and drives himself over to Stark Industries headquarters. He pushes his grief and frustration to the back of his mind, and walks into the building, more than eager to focuses all his time and energy on fulfilling his new role as CEO of Stark Industries.

His Board of Directors almost jump with joy when Tony walks in the room. But Uncle Obie is more reserved. He pulls Tony aside and says, while he’s happy to see Tony out and about, he wonders if now is the best time to come back to work.

“You’re parents just died. That can’t be an easy thing to bounce back from. Why don’t you take some time for yourself? Deal with your grief. Go see that shrink Jarvis recommended. I’m more than willing to look after the company until you return,” Obie says, pressing a warm hand against Tony’s back.

Tony thanks Obie for his concern, but the sentiment is unnecessary. Stark men are made of iron. The emotions he feels are only a distraction from the more important things in life. There’s no time to wallow in grief. He has a company to run, weapons to build, papers to sigh, and hands to shake. There will always time to reflect upon the past. But right now, the only thing Tony is interested in is shaping the future.

* * *

 

A few years later, Jarvis dies, and all those thoughts and feelings Tony had about his parent’s death come back with a vengeance. Once again, Tony finds himself in that place. He feels cold and sad and angry and tired and confused and so alone in the world. And unlike last time, there’s no Jarvis there to pull him out. There’s no Uncle Obie to offer his sympathies. Tony’s on his own now.

He silently accepts the heartfelt condolences from Jarvis’ friends as they file into the synagogue. He watches the funeral staff lower Jarvis’ casket into the ground and wishes he could follow. He listens to Jarvis’ friends mummer to themselves about how much they’ll miss their dear Edwin, but they’re oh so happy that he’s finally reunited with his soulmate. Edwin never was the same after Ana died. It’s a relief to see them together again.

Tony says nothing. He just quietly wraps his arms around his body and wishes his soulmate was here with him.

After the funeral, Tony goes home to a dark, empty house. There’s food in the fridge, but Tony doesn’t feel like heating anything up. He doesn’t want to eat some stranger’s version of a casserole, or dive into an over processed TV dinner. Tony would rather eat Jarvis’ Shepherd's pie or his subpar take on Ana’s chocolate chip cookies.

… Tony would give anything to eat a meal prepared by Jarvis.

Tony’s stomach rumbles, but he doesn’t have the energy to do anything about it. He’s so tired. He feels like he’s dying. His entire body feels heavy and empty and indescribably sick.

Tony opens a bottle of painkillers and takes a pill to stop the dull ache in his stomach. Then, he sits down in front of the TV and mindlessly flips through the channels as he waits for the medicine to work.

An hour later, he still feels like crap.

Tony goes to his room and tries to sleep it off. When he wakes up to an empty house and a stack of paperwork courtesy of Obadiah, Tony realizes the pain hasn’t gone away.

The next day, Tony takes two pills and hopes his heart stops hurting. Nothing. He doubles the dose and then triples the dose. Still, nothing.

A few days later, Tony shoves a handful of pills in his mouth and forces himself to keep it down. The pills don’t sit well in his stomach, but for the first time in a long time, Tony feels some relief. The pain in his chest is muted. The fears and doubts swirling around his head are finally quiet, but they’re not gone. There’s still something there, pulling Tony deeper and deeper into the darkness. It’s incessant and noisy and a drain on his psyche. If Tony can’t get it to shut up, the pain in his chest and in his mind might just drive him insane.

So, in an effort to finally bring an end to his torture, Tony downs half a bottle of painkillers the next night and waits for it all to stop.

But unfortunately for him, death doesn’t come as easy as falling asleep. The pills are slow to dissolve in his stomach, and Tony spends the better part of half an hour slipping dangerously in and out of consciousness. His body feels heavy, his thoughts slow to a halt, and everything feels hazy like he’s in a weird sort of fever dream.

The only thing keeping Tony awake is the fact that all his research says he should be feeling the comforting touch of his soulmate right about now. He should be feeling their hands wrapping around his heart, supporting him, saving him, pulling him away from death’s tempting release, begging him to stay alive, dragging him out of that dark place with every ounce of strength they can muster.

But as the minutes tick by and Tony’s eyes grow heavy, the welcoming touch of his soulmate never comes.

He doesn’t feel the soul bond’s warm pulse under his skin. He doesn’t hear the soft whisper of his soulmate as they send hope and encouragement through the invisible bond. All Tony feels, as he slips further down into the darkness and closer to death, is a cold, distant static in the back of his mind.

And it hurts, knowing that his soulmate doesn’t want him, but what does he expect. Howard was right. Tony’s existence is a mistake. He was a fool to think he was special enough to have someone like a soulmate in his life.

Everything would be so much better if he just died.

* * *

 

A few minutes later, Tony’s college friend, James Rhodes, stops by for a visit. He lets himself in using Jarvis’ spare keys, takes one look at Tony passed out on the bed with a half empty bottle of pills at his side, and immediately calls an ambulance. With little time to spare, Tony is rushed to the hospital where faceless doctors shove a tube down his throat and purge his systems of painkillers. It fucking hurts and Tony wishes, not for the first time that night, that his soulmate was here.

But again, they never come.

The next day, Tony wakes up groggy, confused, and very upset that he’s still alive. Rhodey is sitting in a chair by his bed and, as Tony rouses, he offers Tony a cup of water and fills him in on what he missed. As soon as he’s ready, the doctors want him to see a shrink and talk about what happened. Tony is none too excited at the thought of talking about his feelings to a complete stranger, but Rhodey assures Tony that he’ll be with Tony every step of the way. Whatever he’s going through, whatever drove him to take those pills, Rhodey promises he will be by Tony’s side, no matter what. No judgment. None of that shame and bullshit Howard would have told him about weakness. Tony needs help and Rhodey plans to be there throughout the healing process.

Tony appreciates the sentiment, but he tells Rhodey it’s entirely unnecessary. Bringing him to the hospital was a waste of time and resources. There’s no point in trying to save a hopeless case like him. They should have given the bed to someone else.

They really should have left him alone to die.

But Rhodey shakes his head. He vehemently disagrees. Tony is young. He has so much to live for. He has a bright future ahead of him. So many people would be upset if he died. Think about them. “Think about me, your best friend. How do you think I would feel if you died?”

“Well, for one, those worry lines around your eyes would be less deep. And two, I know for a fact that you’d actually wear a pair of skinny jeans instead of those Mom pants you always run around in.”

“I’m serious,” Rhodey says, with a teasing punch. “What about your soulmate? I know you have one. What would that say?”

The tiny smile on Tony’s face disappears. He bites down on his tongue, not because he doesn’t know, but because he does and he doesn’t want to think about it. He remembers reaching out to his soulmate through the soul bond and he knows exactly how they would react. They wouldn’t be disappointed or angry at Tony’s attempted suicide. They’d be indifferent. They wouldn’t care. Which, Tony feels, is worse than disappointment.

Anger and sadness at least have an emotional basis. Receiving those feelings means that, at the very least, his soulmate cares about his well being . But the cold, distant static that he got instead, that’s more than enough evidence to prove that the person Tony’s been searching for since birth doesn’t give two shits about him.

“Come on. There’s got to be another reason they didn’t respond. Maybe they were busy,” Rhodey says. “Maybe they don’t know how the soul bond works and it takes them a little longer than others to respond. Maybe something is wrong and they couldn’t respond even if they wanted to.”

“I don’t know.”

“Come on,” Rhodey says. “You’ve believed in your soulmate since you were in diapers. You can’t give up on them now. I know you’re not in the best place right now, but just trust me on this one, Tones. They care about you. They care about you so much. Just hold on just a bit longer. They’ll come for you soon. I promise.”

Tony nods and says with a smile, “Yeah. You’re probably right,” but he doesn’t believe a word he says. He wants to, but now that the seed of doubt has begun to grow in his mind, he can’t shake the feeling that he’s completely alone in the world. He can’t seem to let go of the fact that his soulmate doesn’t want him.

But, in spite of all evidence pointing otherwise, he still holds onto hope. He focuses on getting better and learns to cope in healthier ways. The doctors prescribe him antidepressants and send him to talk therapy. They have long discussions a lot about death and grief and healthier ways of handling emotional pain. And, for a while, Tony can see the light at the end of the tunnel. He grieves and allows himself to feel the hurt he had tried to lock away. The pills he relied on gets pushed to the back of the medicine cabinet where they sit and collect dust. For a while, things are good.

But despite all his efforts, bad habits are hard to break.

It still hurts to talk about his parents. And it’s all too easy to drown out Howard’s ghost with loud music and good booze when he gets too uncomfortable. It’s all too easy to forget death’s cold touch with a pair of warm breasts in his hands and a thick dick sliding down his throat. It’s all too easy for Tony to fuck his insecurities away until every tabloid across the glove has him labeled as nothing more than another drunk, rich, playboy too wrapped up in his own ego to comprehend how broken he really is.

It’s all too easy to distract himself with projects for Stark Industries. Always something new to create. Always something old to improve. Always inventing. Never stopping. Never looking back. Always focusing on the now. Making things, improving things to strike harder, be better, be faster, be stronger. His Board of Directors encourages it. Uncle Obie encourages it. It’s almost impossible to stop a bad habit this ingrained into his DNA until something bigger, better, faster, and stronger blows up in his faces and destroys everything Tony thought he knew about the world.

* * *

 

Tony is in Afghanistan when a bomb with his name on it explodes inches from his face. Pieces of shrapnel pierce through his bulletproof vest and digs their way under his skin. Bright red blood bleeds through the Kevlar and stains his snow-white shirt. Tony hears people dying and voices shouting back and forth in a language he doesn’t understand. He tries to stay in the moment, but it’s all too much for him to comprehend and he ends up passing out.

Hours later, Tony slips in an out of consciousness as his heart is literally being torn to shreds. Cold metal peels back his skin and exposes his vulnerable flesh. Dirty hands break open his chest and pull out his still beating heart. They shove something cold and hard into his chest and his flesh burns like it’s on fire. They have him drugged, but not enough to alleviate the searing pain that rampages across his chest.

Tony opens his mouth and screams. He pulls at the cold chains that bind him to the surgery table, but they don’t give an inch. He begs for his life, but his captors just shove a grimy rag in his mouth and silence him. Tony struggles to get free, but his captors shove another dirty needle into his neck and flood his bloodstream with drugs to knock him out.

And as the drugs begin to take effect, Tony closes his eyes and reaches out into the darkness that surrounds him in a last-ditch attempt to save himself. He feels for an invisible bond and begs with every ounce of his being that somehow, some way, his soulmate hears him. He begs his soulmate to come for him. Help him. Save him.

Tony reaches out into the darkness and desperately hopes for even the smallest sign that his soulmate is somewhere out there waiting for him. Ready and waiting to take his hand, hold him close, and whisper, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

But nothing happens.

Tony reaches out once more as his head is forcefully shoved into a bucket of water again and again. He screams as waters is forced into his lungs and he drowns over and over purely for the entertainment of his captors. Tony begs his soulmate to save him from this hell as the cold water fills his chest and destroys his once bright soul in its murky, watery depths.

Once again, nothing.

Tony tries calling for his soulmate one last time as his pale skin burns under the desert sun. He sways side to side, like a fish lost in a sea of sand, as he tries to reach out for something he’s never felt before. But this time, he doesn’t expect a response. He’s almost died more times in the last few months than any other man other man should have to experience in a lifetime. If his soulmate hasn’t responded to him by now, what are the chances anything would change?

None. None whatsoever.

In the end, it’s Rhodey that ends up saving him.

Rhodey is the one that flies to Tony’s rescue. Rhodey is the one that cracks a stupid joke to lift Tony’s spirits and helps him back to the helicopter where a team of medics and a nice large canteen of water await him. Rhodey is the one by Tony’s side when he dismounts from the plane and onto the long California tarmac. Rhodey is the one that buckles him into the new and improved Iron Man suit when Tony finds out about Obadiah’s betrayal. And as Tony sees his life flash before his eyes as the arc reactor overloads, Tony desperately wishes Rhodey was his soulmate.

Yes, Tony only sees Rhodey as brother, but it would make life so much easier. Rhodey is already a welcoming constant in his life. Every time Tony had gotten too drunk to make good decisions or created an unexpected explosion in the lab, Rhodey is always the person at Tony’s side, to either pull him out of the flames or fan it till things got better. Rhodey has been there for all of Tony’s hang ups, breaks up, and throw ups. Colonel James Rhodes is a friend like no other and has proven time and time again that he would be by Tony’s side through thick and thin.

And as disappointing and painful as it is to not be soulmates with the best thing that’s happened to him since Jarvis came into his life, maybe it's for the best. Tony Stark is a mess of a human being. He’s loud, proud, and unpredictable in the worst ways. If someone like his soulmate was either dead or didn’t want him, what in the world made Tony Stark think someone as amazing as Rhodey would ever give him the time of day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was super late. Holidays hit me way harder than I expected, and while I wanted to add a few words to fluff this chapter out (like 1k) Tony was a wordy bitch and turned it into an extra 3k of words. ... Thanks Tony. You know, I thought I was done with characters running rampant in my stories.
> 
> Anyway, the next two chapters should come out on time. No cleaning it up. Just putting it into the drafts and posting it while I spend time with my friends and family. Happy Holidays guys! See you next Friday/ Saturday.
> 
> Also, if you enjoyed what you've seen so far, please leave this lonely author a comment as a Christmas present. This itty bitty raven didn't even get socks for Christmas this year.


	4. Steve Rogers- Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to edit it a bit, but I just got too busy :(. Hope you still enjoy it!

Steve wakes up alone. When Arctic water poured in through the broken window, Steve expected to never open his eyes again. Yet, here he is. He’s staring up at an ivory-painted ceiling, birds are chirping outside, and there’s the familiar crackle of the radio as an announcer narrates the baseball game.

At first, Steve thinks he’s in some sort of afterlife. He’s not cold. Nothing hurts. But as he stretches his fingers against the coarse bedsheets, Steve quickly realizes it’s not true. He’s not dead. He’s still alive. But Bucky, his soulmate, the one person in his life that mattered, he’s gone.

A moment later, a woman walks into the room and greets him. She gives him a reassuring smile, but Steve’s already picking up on everything wrong with the situation. Her hair, dress, lipstick, teeth, even the stitching on her uniform is wrong.

What’s happened since he went down? Was he captured? Who is this woman? What does she know?

Steve stands to his full height and demands to know where he is.

She doesn’t take kindly to that.

Two armed guards come in and, within seconds, Steve’s running for his life down a corridor filled with people in black suits and expensive looking shoes. He pushes through a door and runs into an unfamiliar street, filled with people in equally unfamiliar clothing. He looks around, trying to get his bearings, but there’s no time. The men in black suits are right behind him.

So, Steve starts running. It doesn’t matter where he’s going as long as he can get away from here. He follows the flow of traffic, overpassing vehicles in impossible colors and shapes. He runs and runs until he reaches a familiar intersection. Only it’s not familiar anymore.

The shape and the layout of the buildings are reminiscent of Times Square, but Steve doesn’t recognize anything. There are too many lights, too many people, the buildings are too tall and wrong in so many ways. Flickering advertisements for things Steve doesn’t recognize plaster the buildings and beg for attention. People are selling white shirts with “I ♡ NY” on the front, but there’s nothing remotely New York about any of this. The smell and the bustling energy are familiar, but this is not the New York Steve remembers, and it certainly is not home.

Steve hears the low hum of a car engine which pulls his attention away from his surroundings. A small army of large black cars circle around him and come to a stop. Steve looks for an escape, but men and women in black uniforms fill the gaps between the cars. As Steve steels himself for a fight, a man with an eyepatch and trench coat steps out of the lead vehicle. He approaches Steve carefully, but with a confidence and a conviction Steve is all too familiar with.

“At ease, soldier,” the man says.

Steve takes a few breaths, but he doesn’t feel _at ease_.

“I’m sorry about the little show back there, but we thought it best to break it to you slowly.”

“Break what?” asks Steve. Whatever they were hiding, it couldn’t be worse than watching Bucky die.

The man is hesitant with his answer. “You’ve been asleep, Cap. You’ve been asleep for almost seventy years.”

Steve is speechless. He looks around this new New York and tries to take it all in.

“You going to be okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve lies to himself.

He was wrong. This is just as bad as Bucky dying.

* * *

 

Steve tries to adjust to life in this new world. ‘Tries’ being the key word. He has good days and bad days, but so far, the bad days outnumber the good. Steve tries to have good days. He goes out running, sees a therapist, works out, draws, eats, and drinks plenty of water. He does everything the doctors tell him to do, but it doesn’t fill the emptiness in his chest.

They say its loss. Steve believes it. They tell him to visit the cemetery. Give his respects to his friends so he can move on. He does. They tell him to grieve. He does. They tell him things won’t hurt as much with time. Steve doesn’t believe them.

They also tell him to get involved with something. Find a reason to get up in the morning. Steve tries, but nothing interests him. He had no desire to make connections with anything or anyone. For all intents and purposes, Steve is dead. The Howling Commandos are dead. Everyone he loved and care about is gone or on death’s doorstep. The world around him is different and strange, and he’s not sure how to start acclimating. All Steve wants to do is lock to door to his room and wait for death to come. He misses his friends. He misses Bucky. Now that the war is over and there’s nothing to distract him, Steve can’t stop thinking about Bucky.

Steve wants his soulmate back more than anything in the world. He wants to feels Bucky’s strong arms wrap around his shoulders. He misses whispered reassurance between chaste kisses in the shadows where no one can see them. Steve wants his soulmate to laugh at his frustration with the future. Steve wants Bucky to be alive. He wants the nightmares of watching his soulmate falling to his death to stop. He wants everything around to stop and just leave him be.

But something in him tells Steve to keep going. Wake up, run, workout, shower, go out, try to adjust. Go to a café, draw a little bit, talk to someone, anyone. It’s hard, maybe the hardest thing Steve’s ever done. He can’t connect with civilians without revealing confidential information, and he can’t talk to the agents at SHIELD. They either walk on eggshells around him, or they fawn over the idea he represents until they’re blue in the face. Steve wishes they would shut up and just leave him alone.

So, Steve secludes himself in the gym. It’s quiet down there. The design is clearly reminiscent of the 40's. Probably made to help him feel at home. It doesn’t help. Steve destroys dozens of punching bags because no one is strong enough to deal with him emotionally or physically. There are thousands of people around him, and he’s dying of isolation. He needs someone, anyone, to treat him like a normal person for more than five seconds.

That’s how Director Fury finds him. He offers Steve a manila folder with names and a mission. Steve takes it, not because he believes in the mission, but because punching a god sounds better than punching a bag of sand.

* * *

 

Agent Phil Coulson briefs him on the plane. He’s professional in his mannerisms, unlike the junior agents Steve’s seen walking around SHIELD’s base. It’s a small comfort, but just having a normal conversation makes Steve feels a little less apprehensive about the whole ordeal. Assignments and missions hadn’t changed much over the past seventy years. There was no room for hero worship in the midst of battle. Maybe everything will be fine.

Then, Phil mentions watching Steve sleep and the moment is over.

Natasha proves to be more palatable. She cracks a few jokes at Coulson’s expense and she doesn’t seem to take Steve too seriously. She’s not cocky, but she has a flair for the dramatic and way more confidence and agency that Steve’s used to seeing in women.

Peggy would have liked her.

She’s a spy. Ex-KGB according to her file. The type to keep her cards close to her chest. She’ll be a good coworker and a great asset to the team. Steve’s not sure if she’d be a good friend. Steve’s never been good at keeping up with spies off the field. Too many secrets.

Doctor Bruce Banner is a civilian and on the complete opposite end of the spectrum. Steve can read him like a book based on his posture alone. He’s nervous about being here. He’s constantly looking over his shoulder and jumps as agents casually pass him by. Steve and Dr. Banner shake hands. Dr. Banner’s grip is strong. He’s not impressed by Steve’s heroic legacy, but he clearly his worried about his own history of destruction.

Steve steps into his role as leader and tells him not to worry about it. He just wants to get the cube and complete the mission.

He’s here for the mission, not to make friends.

* * *

 

Anthony (Tony) Edward Stark should have be easy to figure out. SHIELD has a half inch file on his personality alone. Stark is a narcissistic genius, just like his father. He loves women, fast cars, and has too much money to know what to do with it all. He doesn’t listen to orders and he definitely isn’t a team player. But the moment Stark takes off his helmet in the quinjet, the moment he opens his mouth to speak, every preconception Steve has about Stark goes out the window.

Stark is absolutely breathtaking. Steve saw Stark’s profile pictures in the personnel file SHIELD gave him, but they hardly do him justice. Steve can barely tear his eyes away from the man. The way Stark’s goatee accentuates his lips makes Steve’s heart skip a beat. His brown eyes twinkle in the dim light, alive with curiosity. His hair is a bit of a mess from the helmet, but he somehow manages to make it look intentional. And the armor, the armor is a work of art. Steve could spend hours just watching Stark walk around in the suit.

Watching him, listening to him, just being in Stark’s presence makes it easy for Steve to forget the heavier things on his mind.

Stark’s a puzzle that Steve desperately wants to figure out. The SHIELD file says Stark is prideful and arrogant. It only takes a few minutes of actually talking to Stark to figure out SHIELD only got it half right. Cocky enough to brush off a direct order from a commanding officer? Yes. Sharp enough to rile Steve until he wants to bang his head on the walls? Definitely yes.

But Stark isn’t arrogant, at least not where it counts. Just the way Iron Man landed on in the middle of the German square and held the trickster god at gunpoint daring him to move. That’s confidence. Hard-earned confidence that can’t be bought of faked.

Jumping out of a plane to take on an alien of unknown power without a second thought, Steve would concede and say that’s a mix of stupidity and pride. Still, it makes him smile a bit to know that some things haven’t changed in the last seventy years.

When they board the Helicarrier, Steve makes a point to put his analysis of Stark on hold. As good as it feels to be around someone that doesn’t take Steve’s legacy too seriously, he can’t let Stark occupy his thoughts 24/7. He has a mission to think about and a team to lead. His fascination with Stark can wait for a few days. Unfortunately for Steve, Stark doesn’t like to be ignored.

Steve is trying to decode Loki’s cryptic message when Tony waltzes onto the bridge like the drama queen he is. He offers valuable insight, but it’s sandwiched between loud distracting quips. Steve finds it amusing at first, but when Stark gives Dr. Banner a light shock in the side just to see what happens, well, Steve can’t ignore him any longer. Now’s not the time for jokes. Lives are at stake, and Stark needs to understand the gravity of the situation.

Stark, frustratingly enough, brushes it all aside. He has a more important one-eyed fish to fry and he can do it while searching for the cube at the same time, thank you very much. Steve looks to Dr. Banner for help, but he just gives a useless shrug and goes back to his work.

Steve leaves the lab, infuriated. Who the hell does Stark think he is ignoring a direct order? No, he’s not a soldier, but orders are orders. Who cares that there’s something fishy about this entire thing. Steve knew something was wrong the moment he finished reading the mission briefing and _he_ managed not to make a fuss. So why does Stark find it so difficult to let this one go? He’s just like his father. Can’t leave well enough alone. So why does the thought of Stark poking his nose in something dangerous fill Steve with anxiety?

“Damn it,” Steve curses as he runs off in search of answers. He was just supposed to secure Loki so they can find the cube. That’s it. Why is he doing this? Why is he actively searching for something more? What Stark is doing is none of his concern. Why can’t he let this one go? Why does he want to prove that pompous, beautiful genius right?

* * *

 

Stark’s right. Of course he’s right. Steve slams a heavy-duty weapon down on the lab table just to accentuate how right Stark is.

Fury is rightfully upset that his plans have been found out and tries to defend himself. Accusations get thrown around, emotions run hot, and words get twisted around until everyone in the lab is yelling to be heard. Steve and Stark agree at first but the more people interject, the more he finds Stark’s flippant attitude about the whole situation infuriating.

Things escalate until Steve finds himself inches away from Stark’s face. Steve tries to get on top of the situation, but Stark hits hard and his comebacks are lighting fast. Steve gets up in Stark’s face but Stark doesn’t budge. He holds his ground and doesn’t blink when Steve goes in for the low blow. There’s a dull burning in Steve’s stomach as he looks into Stark’s eyes, and he’s not sure if it’s because wants to punch Stark or kiss him.

Then the bridge explodes, and Steve doesn’t have time to worry about that.

Steve pushes Stark out of the way, as smoke fills the room. Red warning lights flash, as everyone rushes to battle stations.

Steve looks at Stark and a knowing look crosses his face. He tells Stark to put on the suit. Stark smiles as he pushes himself up and runs toward the cargo bay. Steve watches him go and tries not to enjoy the thrill of adrenaline that courses through his body as he watches Stark leave.

He always knew Howard’s smile would be the death of him one day. He just never imagined it would be like this.

* * *

 

Loki opens the portal, and all hell breaks loose. People scream as they try to run away as fast as they can. The police try to help, but there’s only so much they can do against an army from space.

Steve fights off the heavily armored aliens for what feels like hours. Steve grits his teeth as Chitauri soldiers flank him on all sides. He’s covered head to toe in dust, sweat, and rubble. He’s got a Norse god at his back and his shield by his side, but even Steve’s not sure how much more he can take. No matter how many get knocked down, they keep coming back. Wave after wave, crawling out of the portal like wasps, each one is stronger than the last. Steve’s super strength is starting to waver. The flashes of lightning Thor is calling down are getting smaller. They’re going to lose. They need something to turn the tide or they’re going to lose.

The comm in Steve’s ear crackles to life.

“I can close it.” Natasha’s voice is barely audible over the loud crackle of static caused by the portal generator. “Can anybody copy? I can close the portal.”

Hope fills Steve’s chest. They can end the fighting, here and now. “Do it!”

“Wait,” Stark says.

Wait? They don’t have the time to wait. “Stark, these things are still coming,” Steve says, as another platoon of Chitauri lumber out from between overturned cars and dark alleyways.

“Yeah, well, we got other problems at the moment. There’s a nuke headed right for downtown.”

A nuke? Like a giant missile that could level a city? Whose bright idea was it to drop a weapon that strong on a city full of civilians?

A plan is already starting to form in his head. “We’ve got to stop it. Thor-”

“Don’t worry your pretty little wings, Cap,” Stark interrupts. “I know just where to put it.”

What was Stark talking about? Where on earth would be big enough to contain an explosion that big? Wait. He couldn’t mean… Steve looks up at the portal and realization drops like a stone in his stomach. No. There was no way Stark could be serious. Taking a missile up into a magical portal into space? That’s suicide.

“There’s got to be another way.”

“Well, if you think of it, could you let me know within the next fifteen seconds? Got an appointment I can’t miss.”

Steve looks around the war-torn city for options. He tries to think of another way, but no matter how many plans he thinks of, none of them are any good. The city is in ruins, everyone is exhausted, resources are low, and they are running out of time.

His hand trembles as he presses two fingers to the comm in his ear. “Stark, we don’t know what’s on the other side. It could be a one way trip.”

“Well, you know me,” Tony says with a strained laugh. “I’m the guy that would just cut the wire.”

Stark’s comm cuts out. Steve watches helplessly, as Iron Man pushes the nuke over the New York skyline. One second, he’s there, red, gold, brilliant, and careening straight up toward the portal as fast as he can. The next second, he’s gone. The only things in the air are the portal and a beautiful, white clouds.

“Captain!”

Steve tears his attention away from the sky. At least ten large Chitauri soldiers have encircled them. They are armed to the teeth and don’t look the slightest bit tired. A feral growl ripples through the group. One paws at the ground, while another runs the sharp edge of his weapon against an upturned car.

Steve grabs the closest weapon he can find off the ground and readies himself. If this is the end, he’s not going down without a fight.

Thor seems to be on the same page as him. “You have fought well today, shield brother,” he says, tightening his grip on his hammer.

“Same to you,” Steve says, leveling what he thinks is the barrel of the alien gun toward the oncoming swarm.

“They shall sing songs about us in Valhalla!”

“In that case,” Steve says, gritting his teeth, “Let’s give them something to sing about.”

The Chitauri roar and charge straight for Steve. He gets off one, two, three shots, but it’s not enough. They’re on top of him. The leader raises a claw over Steve’s head and lets out a bloodcurdling scream. Steve braces himself for the deadly blow, but it never comes.

An invisible force rips through the air and across New York. The aliens freezes. Then, its knees buckle and it fall into lifeless heaps on the ground.

Steve can scarcely believe his eyes. He pokes it with the end of the gun. Nothing. He looks up and scans the battlefield just to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. He wasn’t. All around him, aliens are dropping like flies. The giant airborne ones careen off course and crash into a building.

Steve watches them and furiously tries to put the pieces together. Aliens, portal, Stark, missile. It’s the only thing that makes sense. Stark did something on the other side of the portal to kill all the Chitauri. He cut the wire and saved them all.

Steve can hardly contain his joy. It’s over. They’ve won! He looks up to the portal, expecting a flash of red and gold to fly out of the darkness and across the sky any minute. If Stark can fly in, he can fly out, right?

But nothing happens.

Seconds tick by. The silence is almost deafening. The aliens stay dead. There’s not explosion to level New York. Everything is falling back into a peaceful lull, but Stark hasn’t returned.

“Come on, Stark,” Steve silently prays to himself. “Come back. Prove me wrong one last time just to spite me.”

Nothing happens.

In the portal, Steve sees a far-off explosion blooming like a flower in the darkness. Thor gives Steve a look. It’s now or never. Time to make a judgment call.

“Close it,” he says, his voice a breathless whisper.

From Stark Tower, Steve hears a faint crackle of energy. Then, a last beam of light shoots up from the landing pad, like a zipper closing the opening in the fabric of space and time. As the lights fades, so does the portal. It furrows inward, collapsing in on itself.

Relief washes over Steve. This is it, the end of the battle. Adrenaline drains from Steve’s body, leaving him lightheaded.

Except this isn’t what exhaustion feels like. Exhaustion was burning muscles and limp limbs. Steve feels breathless. He’s gasping for air like a fish out of water. It’s like asthma, but different. Steve’s hand flies up to his throat, as he wills himself to open his lungs. But there’s no air to breath.

“Captain?”

Everything is cold and dark and dying. He’s dying.

“Captain!”

Steve collapses onto the ground. The soul bond flares to life for the first time in decades. But it’s not Bucky. Steve’s soul bond with Bucky feels different. Bucky is bright, painful, but electric. This is dark and thick like tar. Steve feels like he’s being dragged down into a pit of despair. This isn’t normal. Soul bonds shouldn’t feel like this. This feels sick. Something must be wrong with his soulmate.

He’ll think about it later. Right now, Steve tries to focus on breathing for the both of them, but it’s too late. His soulmate has resigned himself to his fate. After all, he has no soulmate. No one would mourn him.

‘You’re wrong,’ Steve sends over the link. ‘I’d miss you. Please, don’t die.’

Surprise flashes through the bond. ‘You’re here? You can hear me?’

‘Show me where you are. The serum made me strong. I can take more than just feelings. I can help.’ Steve gasps as terrifying images are pushed into his mind.

Space. The cold, dark, empty vacuum of space surrounds him on all sides. There’s something above him. Something big. Something dangerous. But it’s gone now. He’d taken care of it. One last reminder of his bloody legacy, consuming the alien invaders in a column of flames. Justice for thousands of deaths. Humanity avenged. Now, maybe, he could finally rest.

‘No!’ Steve tries to yell through the link. ‘Everyone I’ve loved is dead. I can’t lose you too.’

‘I’m dying,’ says the voice.

‘No, you’re not.’

‘I’m so tired.’

‘Stay with me!’

‘Goodbye, whoever you are,’ the voice says, as it flickers like a dying candle. ‘Sorry you got stuck with someone like me.’

“No!” screams Steve.

“Captain, you are alright?” Thor is by his side. His large hands, holding Steve in place, are the only things preventing him from falling over.

Steve nods. Beads of sweat drip down his body, but, for some reason, his entire body feels cold. “Space, dark, I couldn’t breathe.”

“Captain?”

“I felt him,” Steve says, between labored breaths. “My soulmate. He was suffocating. I’ve never felt anything like it before. It was cold and dark. Almost like he fell through a portal into hel- Wait. What happened to the portal? Where’s Stark? Did he-” Steve looks up. The dark window to space is shrinking as he speaks. It’s getting smaller and smaller with each passing second and as it disappears, so does Steve’s hope. Then, right as the portal winks out of existence, Natasha’s voice crackles over the comm.

“I see him!”

Steve squints. A man in red and gold armor falls out of the sky. Steve lets out a sigh of relief, but it doesn’t last for long.

“He’s not stopping.” A cold panic washes over Steve. “He’s not stopping!”

Thor spins his hammer, but Hulk is faster. He flies through the air and snatches Iron Man out of the sky. Bricks crumble under Hulk’s fingers as he slides down buildings and down to the war-torn street.

Steve can hear his heart in his ears as he runs over to Iron Man’s side. But, as he gets close, he can already tell something is off. Hulk shoves Iron Man off his chest with a heavy grunt. Iron Man flops onto the ground, limp like a ragdoll.

Thor flips Stark over on his back and rips Iron Man’s face plate off. Steve’s stomach drops. Stark isn’t moving. The light in Stark’s chest is dark. His eyes are closed. His normally animated face is now lifeless like a stone sculpture. Panic grips Steve’s chest.

He bends down, desperately looking for any sign of life. He puts his ear to Stark’s mouth and listens for the whispers of a breath. Nothing.

Steve pulls away in shock. He can hardly believe it. He only woke up a few weeks ago and he’s lost another friend. He traces the outline of the silent arc reactor with his fingers. Not even a spark of electricity. Steve squeezes his eyes shut and begs Stark to open his.

‘Please wake up,’ he prays. ‘I can’t do this again. I’ve already lost so many people. I can’t lose you too.’

Stark doesn’t move. He doesn’t wake up.

Steve’s eyes begin to water. He covers his face with his hands and tries to fight back tears.

Thor and Hulk stand at his back like silent guardians. Thor puts his hand on Steve’s shoulder and says nothing. They don’t need to exchange any words. The look in Thor’s eyes, Steve knows he’s felt the weight of grief many times in his long life. There are no words to express how much it hurts to lose someone important to you. So, no words need be exchanged.

Hulk, on the other hand, is not doing so well. His breathing heavy as if he doesn’t believe the truth lying in front of him. He shakes the tears from his eyes, rears back, and lets out a roar that shakes the ground.

And then, Stark wakes up. His eyes fly open and he lets out a haggard gasp, as the arc reactor whirls to life.

“What the hell just happened?” Stark asks. His big, brown eyes darting back and forth between the three faces, as if looking for something important. “Did anybody hear that? I swear I heard a voice in my head and now it’s… oh, God. Please tell me nobody kissed me. I literally cannot deal with that amount of stress in my life right now.”

“No, nobody kissed you,” Steve says, smothering his own desire to bend down and kiss Stark. “We… we won.”

“We won?”

Steve nods. “The Chitauri, the army, they’re all dead. You… you saved us.” Steve tries to bite down on a smile, but he can’t hide it for long. They won. Steve hasn’t felt this happy in a long time. He hasn’t had a reason to. Now, as dangerous as it feels looking down at this brilliant, beautiful man, it feels like he finally does. “You’re a hero, Tony.”

Tony closes his eyes and lets his head fall back onto the pavement. “Yeah, I guess I’m pretty awesome,” he says with a sigh of relief.

Steve laughs and give him a playful shove. “Don’t let a simple compliment go to your head. If it gets any bigger, you won’t be able to fit it into your helmet.”

Tony snorts. “Can always make it bigger. Also, would someone mind helping me out of the armor? My HUD appears to be missing.”

“Puny god’s fault,” grunts Hulk, a satisfied grin on his face.

Thor shrugs. “It was an emergency.”

Steve chuckles. He take’s Tony’s hand and pulls him up. “I got you, Stark. I got you.”

* * *

 

As the dust settles and the locals return to their homes, the Avengers shake hands and go their separate ways.

Thor takes Loki and the Tesseract back to Asgard via a blinding light he calls the Rainbow Bridge. Fury tries to convince them to leave the Tesseract, but Thor insists that a weapon that strong belongs in the Asgardian vault. Fury is understandably irritated by this and tries to persuade Thor otherwise. It’s a futile fight, but Steve watches it play out with an amused smile on his face.

Honestly, Steve could care less about what happens to the Tesseract. He’s just happy to see Loki leaving in chains. Well, he does chuckle, when Tony nudges Steve in the side and mouths ‘I told you so,’ as they watch the director trade verbal blows with a god, but he keeps that to himself.

Natasha and Clint depart with less fanfare. They shake hands, give calculated nods, and say a quick goodbye before going back to SHIELD to prepare for their next mission. Steve asks where they’re off to next, and Natasha says Kansas. Steve knows it’s a lie, but it makes him smile nonetheless, knowing that sometimes during their crazy mission, he’s made a friend.

Bruce is eager to get back to India. He doesn’t have a place in mind, but he tells Steve, “The more remote, the better. I’m not really a medical doctor, but they need all the help they can get.” Plus, Bruce is still a fugitive of the law, so that’s a good enough reason to get out of the city as fast as he can.

Steve… doesn’t really know what he’s going to do next. He doesn’t have a home to return to, not really. He’s been staying at SHIELD since they thawed him out, but SHIELD doesn’t feel like home.

Brooklyn was his home before the war. He and Bucky shared a drafty apartment for years, but it was torn down and renovated in the 80s. He tried visiting it after the invasion, but he couldn’t see himself living there anymore. Too many memories. Too many reminders of things he’s lost. Steve’s… not ready to deal with that yet.

Clint makes an offhanded suggestion to travel cross country and, honestly, it doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Steve’s got no attachments at the moment. No kids, no job, no bills or mortgages to pay. Steve’s got enough money from his back pay that he doesn’t have to worry about paying for food or lodging along the trip. Might as well see the world, since he doesn’t have a reason to stay.

But as Steve does a last-minute check to his motorcycle, Tony Stark ambles over.

“Heard you’re going on a road trip. Any idea where you’re headed?” Tony asks. His posture is casual, but there a strange nervous energy about him.

“Don’t know,” Steve admits. “So much has changed in the past seventy years. Might just pick a road and see how far it takes me.”

Tony hums. “Just going wherever the wind takes you. Sounds nice.”

Steve gives a noncommittal hum. “What about you?”

Tony cocks his head. “What about me?”

“Everyone is leaving town. Thought you’d be the first one to fly off.”

Tony chuckles. “Maybe I would have a few years ago, but not anymore. A lot has changed. Someone’s got to take responsibility and clean up the mess.”

If Steve had only read Tony’s file, he’d be surprised that Stark was stepping up. But after working with Tony and spending time with the man over the last few days, Steve’s perspective is a lot different. “SHIELD’s not going to help?”

“Oh, they’ll help. I just don’t think it’s all for the good of the public,” Tony says, petty anger bleeding through his voice. “Anyway, I’ve got some personal reasons for sticking around too. Stark Tower took a pretty big hit in the attack. Place is pretty much unlivable. Have to do some major renovations before we can get her up and running again.”

“Sounds like a pain in the ass.”

“It is,” Tony says with a tired smile. “But it offers up an opportunity for modifications I hadn’t even considered. Was… uh… thinking of blocking a few floors for private use,” Tony says, as he nervously rubs the back of his neck. “Maybe make a specialized training room, add in a bunch of guest rooms, could feasibly fit an entire team of civilian do-gooders into the top floors, if I optimized the space right.”

“That sounds great,” Steve says with a smile. “I can’t wait to see it.”

Tony smiles back, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He’s holding back almost as if, for once, Tony doesn’t know what to say.

“What if you didn’t have to wait?” Tony asks.

Steve blinks, not quite registering what Tony said. “Excuse me?”

“You could come with us,” Tony says, nervously shoving his hands in his pockets. “You know, give your two cents on the design. Dad used to tell stories about how great of an artist you were. Used to say if you didn’t make it in the army, you’d have made a killing in the art world. Even pulled out a few of your old drawings from time to time when he was feeling nostalgic. The dancing monkey was one of my favorites. Realistic, yet humorous.”

Steve is speechless. He didn’t think Howard would have been the one to keep his old drawings. “That’s… Thank you for the offer, Tony. But I-”

“I know you don’t specialize in architecture or design, but colors and shapes are all the same, right? I’m sure you’d get the hang of it eventually,” Tony says, continuing to ramble on. “Pepper’s the head of my design team at the moment. She’s great at figuring out what would look good where, but sometimes it’s fun to shake things up and do something different. And I could always use a second opinion on picking out horrible modern art pieces. Pepper always shuts down my choices and I need someone on my side.

“Also, retro is fashionable, so your older artistic sensibilities would fit right in.”

“Retro is fashionable?” asks Steve, barely able to keep up with the conversation.

“Absolutely. And if it isn’t, I’ll make it fashionable. It might take some time, but I know people. They’ll make it happen, one way or another.”

Steve just stares at Tony. He’s not even sure where to start. “Why?” he asks.

“Well, Stark Industries has to stay ahead of trends if we want to stay competitive so-”

“No,” Steve says before Tony can go on another tangent. “Why are you asking me to go with you?”

Tony opens his mouth, but no words come out. He looks down at the ground and shrugs. “You seem… lost. Maybe I’m overstepping my boundaries, but you seem like you could use some direction. Thought I could help. I’m not saying you have to stay forever, but it’s at least a place to start.”

“SHIELD-”

“Kept you sheltered and wants you back on the field as soon as possible,” Tony says before Steve can finish. “And don’t tell me I’m overthinking things. Fury’s got a pile of missions on his desk with your name on it. Not even joking. He’s literally labeled them as S.G. Rogers in an attempt to be subtle.”

Steve snorts. Files with his name on it; that sounds about right. “And what do you suggest I do?” he asks Tony.

“Come back to the tower with me,” Tony says, the smallest hint of a smile on his face. “I already convinced Bruce to stick around New York for a bit longer. What’s one more person? It might be a bit drafty until I get some walls put up, but you’ll be close to Brooklyn if you want to visit and you’ll have state-of-the-art privacy if you just want some peace and quiet to get your head on straight. We can even get you enrolled in art classes, if you like. Get you back to what you should have been doing after the war. Or, if you want, I can take you out to see everything you’ve missed in the past seventy years.”

“You, a tour guide?” Steve asks with an amused smile.

“Me in a sexy tour guide uniform. Is it really so hard to imagine?” Tony says with a flirtatious wink. “But seriously, anything from visiting landmarks to meeting first person resources on events you’ve missed, I can do it for you. I can take you to expensive restaurants and we can try food from around the world, stuff you would never imagine in your wildest dreams. Anything you want, anything you need to help you get back on your feet, I can get for you. What do you say?”

Steve stares at Tony, completely speechless. “That sounds…” Wonderful. Amazing. Maybe too amazing. “This is all too much, Tony.”

“It’s no problem at all,” Tony says. He’s practically beaming with joy. “After everything you’ve been through, Cap, you deserve it.”

“Tony… I… I can’t-”

“Of course you can,” says Tony. “Dad would curse me from his grave if I didn’t do this.”

“Tony… I…” Steve’s at a loss for words.

It’s a generous offer. Far too generous for one man to give. The polite thing would be to refuse, but a small part of Steve wants to take it. He has so many questions about this new world and Tony’s willing to answer them all. Tony’s eyes sparkle with possibilities behind the large sunglasses and Steve can’t help but want to indulge him. Tony genuinely wants to help Steve, no strings attached. Steve’s not used to that sort of attention. And, well, Tony being easy on the eyes and a riveting speaker is just an added bonus to an already generous package.

But a small voice in the back of Steve’s head holds him back. It’s too soon. He’s still not over losing his old team. He’s still not over losing Bucky. Yes, he’s visited their graves, but he hasn’t taken the time to process what it meant for him or his future. Steve’s got a lot of emotional baggage to process and New York doesn’t feel like the right place to do it. At least, not anymore.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” Steve says. “I’d like to, but I think I need some time alone. There’s a lot I still need to process. Bucky, he… It’s only been a few months since I lost him. I haven’t had a chance to grieve. That and waking up seventy years in the future. It’s just too…”

“Too much. Yeah, okay. I get it,” says Tony. He looks disappointed, but he doesn’t make any effort to sway Steve’s mind. “Take all the time you need. Just… just know that my door is always open. Literally, at the moment, but it still will be metaphorically open when I get it replaced.” He gives Steve a weak smile and puts out his right hand.

Steve looks at the hand and hesitates. He looks at Tony expecting some type of catch, but there isn’t one. Just a simple smile, a simple promise, and a simple handshake. Steve takes Tony’s hand and, for the first time, he realizes how different Tony is from his father. Shaking hands with Howard always felt stiff and awkward, like a weird sort of agreement or promise. Shaking hands with Tony feels… nice. It’s like less of a promise to cash in on and more like a reason to come back.

Tony and Bruce drive off back into the city. And as Steve waves goodbye to them, he thinks maybe, someday, he’ll come back to New York and take Tony up on his offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you’re having a happy holidays. My family currently sucks ass, but your lovely comments make my time home so much better.
> 
> See you guys next week for part 2!


	5. Steve Rogers- Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve goes on a journey of self discovery and feels nothing and everything.

Those first few days after the Avengers go their separate ways, Steve feels pretty good. Not great, but better than he was before. It’s a far cry from the angry, depressed slump he’d found himself in for the last few months. Plus, out here, out on the open road, he has space to think.

And now that he’s officially been declassified, the world is his oyster.

He drives up and down the coastline on his motorcycle, exploring all the nooks and crannies of the East Coast that he never could before and, at first, it’s great. Steve sees new things, meets new people, tries new food and new flavors from all over the world, and just in general, experiences wonderful things that he never could have dreamed of in a million years. But, over time, his mood starts to dwindle. Steve goes from being ‘pretty good’ to ‘okay’ to ‘not so great’ to ‘I don’t want to get out of bed and I don’t know why.’

Within a few weeks, Steve’s lying paralyzed on worn motel beds with the blinds closed and a tube TV as his only source of light. His mind is plagued with thoughts of Bucky, both the good and the bad, but more so the bad.

He thinks about Bucky, laughing, smiling, alive and well as he rides the rickety Ferris wheel or walks down the pier. He thinks about Bucky falling to his death and the desperation on his face as their fingers brush up against each other for that last time. Steve thinks about a body he will never find, twisted, broken, and frozen somewhere in the mountains, where no one will ever find him or give him a proper burial. Steve’s mind fills with ‘could have’s and ‘would have’s and ‘should have’s until the guilt and the silence of the small motel room is too much to bare.

He hops on his motorcycle in the middle of the night and drives out into the country, trying to run away from his thoughts. He visits new places, breaks up bar fights, performs small acts of heroism, and tries to fill his brain with something other than Bucky, but it only works for so long. Once the people have left, the sun’s gone down, and the door of the hotel room is closed, Steve’s back in that dark, depressing place, thinking about his lost soulmate.

It’s not like he wants to stay there. He knows he needs to move on. He knows he needs to stop thinking about Bucky and focus on the future. For god’s sake, Bucky may be gone, but Steve still has a soulmate. He felt them during the alien attack in New York. Someone else in the world needs Steve to let go of the past and live.

But he can’t let go. He’s not ready to move on yet. Bucky was his soulmate. His one true partner in life. Steve’s not ready to give up on Bucky. Yes, it’s been almost seventy years, but Steve never felt him die. So, there’s a chance he’s still alive, right?

Steve watches the days pass by hoping that, one day, the clouds will break and he’ll feel like his old self again. Maybe he’ll find out what happened to Bucky. Maybe he’ll find his ~~new~~ other soulmate. Maybe he’ll find a reason to live. Until then, Steve tries to engage in things that used to make him happy. He drives across America, visiting places he’s only seen in library books. He draws. He eats good food and makes new memories.

But nothing he does seems to work.

Then out of nowhere, Tony texts him.

The sound of a phone ringing catches Steve off guard. He’s turning in for the night in a town that only has five stop lights, when his bag starts to vibrate. Steve doesn’t see a phone, at least not one he recognizes, but he does see a small, black box jumping up and down at the bottom of his bag. Steve pulls it out and sees Tony Stark’s name displayed on a glass screen. Huh. He initially thought it was a tiny radio or something. Who knew they made phones that small.

The phone stops ringing and a short message appears on screen. It takes Steve a couple of wrong buttons and asking strangers a lot of questions before he can finally read the damn message. When he does, it makes Steve smile for the first time in almost two months.

 

 

> _Hey. Snuck a cell phone into your bag. I know you said you wanted some time alone, but it’s just for emergencies. Like if you get a flat in the middle of the desert and the nearest payphone is two decades behind you. It’s also easier than carrying around a pager like the pirate suggested. I know you’re old, but you’re not that old._

Steve chuckles and it’s strange. He hasn’t felt the urge to laugh in a long time. He thinks the message over and takes a few days to craft a polite response.

 

 

> _Dear Mr. Stark,_
> 
> _Thank you for the phone. It’s been a very useful tool to have at my disposal over the past few days. I hope the price didn’t inconvenience you. I showed it to some kids and they started talking about how it’s a beta. I assume that means it’s very rare. I will do my best to keep it safe, as doing otherwise would be a waste of a heartfelt gift._
> 
> _Again, thank you for the phone. I will do my best to keep it on hand for emergencies like you suggested._
> 
> _Regards,_
> 
> _Steven G. Rogers_

Stark’s response is almost instantons.

 

 

> _No problem, Cap. Just don’t lose it or drop it in the toilet. Actually, maybe do drop it in the toilet. Need to get ahead of Steve Jobs while I have the chance._

Steve sends his reply a few days later.

 

> _Dear Mr. Stark,_
> 
> _I was very pleased to receive your message. I am unsure what you mean by “drop it in the toilet.” I have been informed by some locals that doing so will result in destroying the phone. I do not have any desire to intentionally destroy your gift. Is there some context that I am missing?_
> 
> _Regards_
> 
> _S. Rogers_

 

 

> _Only that Steve Jobs is a condescending ass who can’t make a simple portable device waterproof. Also, you know you don’t have to write texts like a letter, right? Think of texting like writing a telegram only faster._

 

 

> _LIKE THIS STOP_

 

 

> _Okay. Now I know you’re trolling me._

 

 

> _I DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU MEAN STOP_

 

 

> _omg you’ve been sending Natasha blurry pics ever since you figured out how to use the camera!_
> 
> _Speaking of which, why don’t you send me any blurry pics? I want to see Bigfoot too._

 

 

> _(img. not found)_

 

 

> _That’s not what I meant and you know it._

 

 

> _I’m going through the mountains and I think I saw one. I’ll send it to you in a bit._

 

 

> _A burger?_

 

 

> _Wrong picture._

 

 

> _You really must like that burger._

 

 

> _MY HANDS ARE TOO BIG AND THIS KEYBOARD IS TOO SMALL!_

 

 

> _lol don’t worry Capsicle. You’ll get it eventually._

Tony’s message is simple, but it makes Steve laugh in his tiny motel.

They trade texts like this for a few weeks as Steve travels across the US. Sometimes it takes Steve a couple of days to craft a response, but he’s always greeted with a message from Tony when he wakes up in the morning or at the end of a long drive. It’s nothing like talking with someone face to face, but maybe it doesn’t have to be. At the moment, it’s just nice to have something to look forward to. It gives Steve a reason to wake up, a reason to get out of bed, a reason to go on and keep living.

Steve’s still sad sometimes. He has nightmares of seeing Bucky fall. He cries while holding Bucky’s dog tags to his chest. But reading Tony’s messages, seeing pictures of Tony’s bots doing silly shit, it makes Steve feel less sad. Steve might even venture to say that he’s starting to feel okay.

* * *

 

One night, as Steve looks down at the Atlanta skyline, he gets an actual phone call. He looks down at the caller ID and sees Tony’s name and picture on the screen.

Steve presses the green button and holds the phone up to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hey Steeeeeve,” Tony says, slurring his name. “How are you doing this beautiful evening?”

“Not bad,” says Steve. “Is everything okay? You sound drunk?”

Tony giggles. “Not drunk. Just a bit tipsy.”

Steve furrows his brow. He hears explosions in the background. “What’s that sound?” he asks, pressing his ear to the phone. “Is somebody else there?”

Tony hums. “There better be. I’m at a party at the moment. A pretty lousy one at that. The girls are pretty, but DJ is shit and the booze is watered down. Spared no expense, my ass. I could throw better parties in my sleep.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be… you know.”

“Socializing? Please,” Tony scoffs. “I’ve been brown nosing for hours now. When everyone’s this drunk, no one will even know I’m gone.”

"And is that why you’re calling me? Because you’re bored?”

“Bored? Me? Nooooo. Never.”

Steve shakes his head and chuckles. “Of course not. You’re _the_ Tony Stark. The party follows you wherever you go. No matter what happens, you’re never bored.”

“Maybe,” Tony drunkenly slurs. “But what if, and just hear me out for a second, what if I didn’t call you because I was bored?”

“What? Really? Mister Stark, I’m flattered. And here I thought this was a booty call?”

“Oh, my fucking god,” Tony groans. “Who taught you sarcasm? And who told you what a booty call is? I kid you not, Steve, I am this close to getting in the suit and flying across the country just to kick their-”

“Natasha.”

“… Of course she did.”

“So, what did you want to talk about?” asks Steve, smug smile still on his face. “Did you call to drunkenly talk about astrophysics? Or maybe you wanted to just shoot the shit?”

Tony doesn’t answer.

“I take it you want to talk about astrophysics then? No problem. I might be a little slow, but I should be able to keep up. I take it you’re well-versed on the subject. Should I take notes? Should I get comfortable for this?”

“Maybe,” Tony says, and it’s the way Tony says “maybe” that gives Steve reason to pause.

“What happened?” Steve asks, humor gone from his voice.

Tony lets out a long sigh. “Nothing happened. It’s just… I was- God, how do I say this - Pepper and I hit a rough spot. We’re… taking a break at the moment.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Steve says, because what else are you supposed to say in these types of situations?

Tony tries to laugh it off, but it sounds forced. “Don’t be. It’s wasn’t your fault. We had an argument about what I did with the missile. She - how do I put this lightly- disagrees with my decision. She doesn’t think I should have sacrificed myself by going into the portal. There’s a couple hundred people who would disagree with her including myself, but she doesn’t want to hear it.”

“I could talk to her if you like,” offers Steve. “Sometimes an outsider’s perspective is helpful in these kinds of situations.”

“It’s more than that,” says Tony. “She has a problem with me being Iron Man. She doesn’t like how I go out and put myself in the line of fire every day. Says it makes her feel that she’s not important. Like I care more about protecting others than I care about coming home to her.”

“Do you?” asks Steve.

“Absolutely not,” Tony says without a second thought. “She’s my rock. I’d be lost without her. The company would be lost without her. It’s why I made her my CEO.”

Tony pauses and Steve can clearly hear the ‘but’ in the silence. “What did she say?” asks Steve.

“It’s what she hasn’t been saying that’s made it hard,” says Tony, his voice a little softer than before. “She’s been dropping hints at an ultimatum lately. Either I give up being Iron Man or she walks.”

Steve’s mouth drops. He feels like he just got slapped in the face. “That’s… wow.” He’s only known Tony for a few days and even _he_ knows how important Iron Man is to Tony.

“Yeah,” Tony says with a strained laugh. “I keep telling her I can’t give it up. The suit and I are one. It’s become a part of me. It’s who I am, how I define myself. Billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, I could lose all those tomorrow and not care. But Iron Man, it’s more than armor. It’s who I am, and nothing I do or say can change that fact.”

“And what does Pepper think?”

Tony hesitates. “She… I haven’t told her about that yet. It also doesn’t help that I felt someone else when I-”

“When you what?”

“It’s nothing,” Tony says. Steve wants to press for more information, but Tony’s moved on. “Did that ever happen to you during the war?”

“What happened?” asks Steve.

“Someone wanting you to put down the mantle of Captain America, but you couldn’t?”

Steve chuckles quietly. Now there’s a story. “Actually, it was the other way around. I wanted to put down the mantle after I rescued Bucky, but the army wouldn’t let me. Said they needed a symbol to rally behind.”

“Really? The way Dad talked about you, it sounded like you wanted to fight.”

“I did, but I just wanted to be a regular soldier. I didn’t want to do the dancing monkey routine. Bucky, on the other hand, Bucky loved the attention.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Loved the attention, the girls.” Steve chuckles, remembering how Bucky wooed ladies left and right. It was just for show, but it still left Steve in a jealous rage. Bucky laughed it off and kissed him saying ‘It’s just for show,’ and, ‘You’re the one I want to come back to at the end of the day. Nobody else.’

“I think you two would have gotten along,” Steve says with a smile.

“You know I’m more than just a show pony, Rogers. Girls aren’t the only thing that interest me. You’re going to have to do better than that if you want to impress me,” Tony says in a low voice that makes something in Steve’s stomach turn flustered circles.

“You said your lab was like Candy Land, right?” Steve says, pushing a stray lock of hair behind his burning ear. “I saw an interview of you talking about it on TV. It was beautiful. Bucky would have taken one look at the place and died right on the spot. He loved playing around with Howard’s prototypes. Got in a lot of trouble for it when the stuff he tested went wrong, but you knew the entire time he was getting reprimanded that he had a good time.”

“Sounds like a fun guy. You miss him?”

Steve nods. He holds the phone close to his ear and wishes Bucky were still here. “More than you could know,” he says, wiping away a stray tear.

* * *

 

They talk a bit more after that, but they don’t discuss anything deep. Steve hangs up with a promise from Tony to text him when he gets home.

They text less after that, but they talk a lot more. Nothing formal. Just an occasional call, like if Steve needs to tell Tony about something funny that happened at a truck stop, or Tony needs Steve to be his sounding board so he can figure out how this new device needs to be wired. No, no, you don’t have to know anything. Just let me talk and I’ll figure it out eventually. DUM-E, U, and Butterfingers are fine lab partners, but sometimes you just want someone with a human touch. Can you do that Steve?

Sure, Tony. I can do that.

They even meet up for lunch whenever Steve makes a stop in a major city. Tony treats Steve to a fancy meal, and Steve takes Tony to a hole in the wall diner that the locals recommend. Tony talks about an array of things during their meals; his bots, his company, his inventions, and thousands of ideas that go nowhere.

Steve talks about Bucky. He tells stories about the other Commandos too, but he talks a lot about Bucky and how much Steve misses him. Bucky was an important part of his life. And now that he’s gone it’s like he’s starting over from scratch in more ways than one.

Tony nods and listens, as Steve spins epic tales of his and Bucky’s misadventures across Brooklyn and all over Europe. He laughs at all the funny parts and hands Steve a tissue whenever a memory hits a little too hard. Steve’s pretty sure Tony know about the nature of his and Bucky’s relationship, but Tony never says anything, critical or otherwise. Apparently having a same sex-soulmate isn’t as taboo as it was back in his day.

It’s nice. Really nice.

Not that other things in Steve’s life aren’t nice. He continues to send Natasha blurry pictures of animals or trees and claims they’re Big Foot. That’s nice. Steve and Clint send each other stupid memes and make a few of their own. It takes the internet by storm and leaves Steve laughing in the middle of the road when he sees a stupid 4am post go viral. That’s nice too. He drives through mountains, meets people from all walks of life, and makes hundreds of friends along the road. That’s also nice, but not as nice as spending time with Tony.

Steve’s not sure how to explain it, but there’s just something about talking with Tony that just makes Steve’s life better. Sending a silly text late at night or just talking with Tony over the din of a busy restaurant feels good. Seeing the way Tony’s eyes light up when he talks about one of his new inventions makes Steve smile so hard his cheeks hurt. Hearing Tony laugh when Steve does something embarrassing makes his face flush and his toes curl, but not in a bad way. In a good way. There are butterflies in his stomach and a little leap in his step. And Steve realizes, as he’s walking down the boardwalk of a Florida beach, that for the first time in what feels like months, Steve is genuinely happy.

He’s found his home. Not in a place, but in people. He’s found his home in badly-taken pictures and stupid jokes and afternoon meals. He’s found his home in brilliant brown eyes, a nervous laugh, a breathtaking smile, and hours of technobabble that Steve’s slowly beginning to understand. And when the day ends and Steve and Tony have to part ways, Steve is already on his phone planning their next lunch date.

Days and months have new meaning now. Going for early morning runs doesn’t feel like a chore anymore. Instead of crossing off the days Steve’s outlived everyone else, he starts looking forward to pictures of creepy European caves from Natasha. He waits patiently for Clint’s rage-fueled phone calls. But more than anything, Steve counts down the days until he can see Tony again.

That’s not to say Steve’s forgotten about Bucky. Steve still missed Bucky and his old life like a missing limb. It’s impossible not to miss them. But over time, Steve finds it hurts less to think about them. Telling stories about Bucky, Peggy, Howard, or the Howling Commandos feels less like reading from an obituary and more like recalling a fond memory. It’s a small change, but it makes all the difference.

Steve’s not stuck in the past anymore. Somewhere along the line, he’s started looking up and looking forward. Sometimes, Steve gets dragged down by guilt; but every time he does, Steve digs in and reminds himself that his friends would want this. Bucky would want this. His soulmate would want Steve to keep living and move on with his life even if he wasn’t around anymore. Right?

Right. Right! Absolutely. Of course Bucky would want Steve to move on. They’d had this conversation before Bucky shipped out.

Bucky had told Steve it wouldn’t be fair for Steve to stay single if Bucky died. Steve deserved happiness. And if that meant moving on from his soulmate, well, Bucky would have been reluctantly okay with that. It wasn’t like Steve was dumping his soulmate or forgetting him completely. He was just making room in his heart for someone else. That’s all.

Steve loved Bucky, and Bucky loved Steve. None of that changed if Steve moved on. Besides, one can’t live on memories alone. Best to go out, live life, and share it with someone else.

“You have a big heart, Steve. Hate to waste it all on me when I’m dead,” he remembers Bucky saying in a dark alleyway, minutes before he boarded the plane to Europe. “Put some flowers on my tombstone and then, go find some pretty doll that makes you as happy as you made me.”

So, as strange as it feels to close Bucky’s chapter, Steve stops thinking about the past and starts thinking about his future. He starts to plan. He makes a list of the people he wants to see and the things he wants to learn about. Fury’s number sits eagerly on the nightstand, but Steve doesn’t call it yet. There are a few matters he would like to take care of before he goes back to work.

He calls Clint, and they start planning a giant event for everyone who participated in the meme. Clint says they can break a world record if they play their cards right, but Steve is just happy that the proceeds from the event are going to charity.

Steve stops by Yosemite National Park and buys Natasha a set of Russian dolls with local cryptids painted on the outside. Natasha laughs when she gets the package and tells Steve to watch his mailbox for an equally hideous present from Europe.

Tony, well, Steve wants to do something special for Tony. Tony has been so generous, how could Steve do otherwise? Steve spends hours reading guide books and online reviews in pursuit for the best restaurant in the US. He reads up on car shows, tech demonstrations, science fiction conferences, anything that would make Tony smile.

But during their next lunch date, as Steve is mulling over the benefits of a restaurant in Nevada versus a car show in Colorado, Steve takes a second to really look at Tony and he notices there’s something far more important to pay attention to than a seasonal menu.

Tony’s not doing well. He says he’s fine, but Steve doesn’t miss the dark bags under Tony’s eyes, covered up by concealer and large sunglasses. He doesn’t miss the yawns hidden behind bony hands or the gauntness in Tony’s cheeks. Steve doesn’t say anything when Tony nods off during a particularly long story about a hike across the Grand Canyon, but Steve is starting to worry.

He conferences with Natasha and she says she’s worried as well. Tony is constantly distracted at work. If he’s not falling asleep standing up, he’s rambling at a mile a minute to the point that he’s incoherent to everyone, including his AI JARVIS. He’s not sleeping and when he does, it’s not for long. Sometimes, things fall over in the lab or in a diner and it sends Tony into a panicked tizzy. Steve knows something is wrong, but Natasha tells Steve to leave it alone. Tony scares easily and if they try to approach him about it, he’ll deny anything is wrong and run away. Blame father of the year, Howard Stark, for Tony’s stupid levels of pride. Best to treat Tony like nothing is wrong and let Pepper and Rhodey handle it.

But Steve doesn’t believe this is the best way to handle the situation. Pepper and Rhodey may have known Tony longer, but Tony is their friend too. They should be doing something to help him, not leaving it for Rhodey and Pepper to take care of on their own like a dirty little secret. Besides, how can Steve not help?

He hates seeing Tony sprint to the restaurant for an hour of small talk when he’s clearly falling asleep at the table. Steve hates looking at Tony’s blood-shot eyes, as he swears on his mother’s grave that he’s fine. An invisible feeling stabs Steve in the chest every time he sees the panicked look in Tony’s eyes when a waiter slams the dishes too hard on a table.

When Tony’s face pales and he claws at his throat as if he can’t breathe, Steve wants to hold Tony’s hands to Steve’s chest and reassure him that everything is okay. But for some reason, he doesn’t do it. Steve’s not brave enough to do that, and he’s not quite sure why.

Dinner can wait. Right now, Steve wants to do everything in his power to make sure Tony’s okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that, vacation is over and I’m finally back home. We're about halfway through what's currently written, so I guess I better get back to my cold, dark, cave and start writing again. Well, the sunlight was nice while it lasted.
> 
> The burger was from a restaurant called "Hero Burger" and while I think Steve might be the type to get a classic American cheeseburger with extra cheese, he's not the one that has to eat it. I have to eat it. So, sorry Cap, I my stomach doesn't like cheese and I get what I want!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who left a comment on the previous two chapters. I haven’t replied to all of them, but they always put a smile on my face. If you haven't left a comment before, please consider doing so. Things are going to get a little crazy starting next week and I can't wait to see what you guys think.


	6. Tony Stark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's life is a roller coaster of emotions. Ironically, when the Mandarin attacks, that's when things start looking up.

Steve worries that Tony isn’t feeling well. He says so time and time again when they meet up for lunch. Tony brushes it off and says he’s fine, but it’s a lie.

Tony’s insomnia has gotten worse. He feels anxious all the time. Every time he tries to sleep, he has nightmares about the Battle of New York and no matter what he tries, he can’t seem to shake them. Sometimes Tony dreams that he doesn’t make it to the portal in time. Other times, the missile misses the ships or the blast doesn’t penetrate through the shields. Either way, Tony’s nightmares are all the same.

He sees the alien fleet fly past him and down to Earth. They disperse like flies and raze the ground, until smoke and ash block the sun. Tony tries to stop them, but he can’t move. He’s naked and alone in space without his suit. He can’t breathe. He can’t move. All he can do is scream into the vacuum of space, as his friends and loved ones burn and die.

Every time he has one of these dreams, Tony wakes up in a pool of his own sweat, screaming at the top of his lungs. He tries every technique he can think of to try and stay asleep, but nothing works. Once he’s awake, anxious thoughts swarm around in his brain like a hive of angry bees and nothing he does will quiet them down.

One doctor suggests listening to whale sounds and meditating before bed. Tony tries it. It only helps a little. Another suggests a dream journal. Tony tries it. That doesn’t help at all. Another doctor suggests sleeping pills. Tony turns that down immediately. It’s been years since he overdosed, but even he knows that using sleeping pills (even if it’s for legitimate issues) is a slippery slope. One pill becomes two, and then two becomes three, and soon enough, three sleeping pills becomes the whole bottle.

So, he looks for other options. Tony looks to his girlfriend, Pepper, for help with handling his demons. But she’s only human. Pepper tries to help as much as she can: being by Tony’s side through ill-timed panic attacks, fighting off the armor every time Tony has a nightmare, advising Tony to talk to someone, anyone, about his problems. But there’s only so much Pepper can take before she snaps.

They break up, officially, a few months later. At least their separation is clean and efficient. “It was bound to happen eventually,” she says. They’re not soulmates, proven by the face that she didn’t feel him at the Battle of New York, and she knows how much the soul bond means to Tony.

Tony tries to tell her she’s wrong. Just because Pepper didn’t feel him when he went through the portal doesn’t mean they can’t be together. And besides, all that could easily be explained as some sort of fluke. His relationship with Pepper is more important than some stupid feeling the universe sends him.

Pepper smiles and thanks him, but her mind is made up.

It takes two bags and one trip for Pepper to remove all her things from the Malibu house. Tony wishes it took more. The house is too quiet without her and his nightmares get worse with every passing day.

So, Tony does what he’s always done when he wants to forget about reality, he builds. Tony indulges his anxieties and designs suits for events he hopes will never pass and an intergalactic war he prays will never come.

And then, because things can’t get any worse, the Mandarin attacks Happy and his whole world turns to shit.

* * *

 

Tony’s world is crumbling down around him. And for once, he’s being literal.

Tony challenged a supervillain to hit him where it hurts and surprise, surprise, the Mandarin took Tony up on his offer. He sent helicopters straight to Tony’s doorstep and blasted the Malibu house to smithereens. Tony does his best to defend his home, but there’s only so much an un-weaponized prototype can do. All it takes is one luck shot and a few too many hits to the head, and he’s falling down, down into the dark ocean water below.

He tries to fly or at least swim up to the surface, but the armor is heavy and the flight systems aren’t operational. He tells JARVIS to plot out a way to escape, but the longer he stays down here, the larger the slabs of concrete become, and the harder it is to see the light of the surface. Tony barely dodges out of the way of one of his prized cars, when a sheet of rock and twisted rebar sneaks up behind him and pins him down.

Tony grunts as metal scrapes against metal. He wrestles to be free of the rebar, but with each passing second, a small stream of ocean water spills into the suit. Panic begins to well up in his chest.

Memories from Afghanistan surface, but Tony grits his teeth and shakes them out of his head. Now’s not the time for a trip down memory lane. He needs to get out of this mess and he needs to get out now!

With a little bit of leverage, Tony manages to shimmies out from under the rock, but victory doesn’t last for long. Concrete and metal cascades down from above burring Tony alive. He tries to blast his way out, but there’s not enough power in the suit. He tries to dig his way out, but he doesn’t have enough leverage. There’s too much rubble to clear away and the suit’s filling with water.

Tony tries to stay calm, but it only takes a bit of salt water to splash into his mouth and all of a sudden, it’s all too much. He’s having a full blown panic attack. Red warning lights are flashing all around him, beeping and alerting him to everything wrong with the suit. He’s pinned to the ground, unable to move. There’s water coming in from every direction. He can’t see. He can’t escape. His heart is beating a thousand miles an hour and there’s not enough air to breathe.

He claws at the rock, but it’s useless. He’s going to die here. His lungs are going to fill with water and he’s going to drown, thanks to his own stupidity.

The water laps up against his throat. Tony tilts his chin up, trying to hold onto life for a few more seconds, but even he knows there’s not much he can do. He’s only delaying the inevitable. Within minutes, the helmet fills with sea water and Tony lets out the last of his air in a stream of bubbles.

‘I don’t want to die,’ Tony thinks, as the lights of the helmet dim and his strength begins to fade. ‘Somebody, anybody, please, help me.’

The air in his lungs is gone. He closes his eyes and drifts down to death’s door, a feeling he’s becoming very familiar with after his tenure with the Ten Rings. But to his surprise, Tony is not alone. There’s a gentle pressure pushing along the side of his head. It’s cool and soft, like the comfort of a winter’s frost. It pulls Tony up and out of the darkness. It cradles Tony’s head in its hands and whispers, ‘I’m here. I won’t let you die.’

‘Who-who are you?’ Tony thinks as the world turns black.

The voice in his head chuckles and it sounds like ice tinkling in the arctic air. ‘I’m your soulmate.’

“Sir.” He hears JARVIS’ voice from beyond the frost. “Sir, take a deep breath.”

The right gauntlet breaks off from the armor. It circles around, grasp hold of Tony’s hand, and pulls him from the rubble.

“Flight power restored,” JARVIS says, as the gauntlet reattaches itself to the armor. Tony feels the familiar thrum of energy under his hands, as the suit propels him up to the surface.

“Initializing emergency protocol,” says JARVIS. The water begins to drain from the suit and Tony gasps for air.

Heavy ocean water tries to keep him down, but the suit is strong. Tony blasts out of the water, just in time to see the remaining helicopters turn around and return to base. His moment of lucidity doesn’t last long though. Tony’s vision starts to blur, as JARVIS steers the armor away from danger and back toward land.

‘Don’t leave me,’ Tony thinks to his soulmate, as he slowly begins to lose consciousness. ‘I don’t want to be alone anymore.’

‘Don’t worry. I’m here,’ whispers the voice, as it melts away. ‘I won’t leave you again. I promise.’

* * *

 

Tony returns to the ruins of his Malibu house a little lighter, a little more scarred, a bit more confident, and a lot wiser. He’s had a busy week to say the least. The Mandarin has been taken care of, Happy is on the mend, Pepper is still his friend and not his girlfriend, but at least she’s safe. And now that things have calmed down, all that’s left is to pick up the pieces.

Tony pulls what he can from the remains of his house. Nothing big, like the cars, the piano, or his army of awards. Just the important stuff: his hard drives, his prototypes, and most importantly, his bots.

It takes a while to carefully fish U, Butterfingers, and DUM-E up from the ocean floor, but it’s worth it. Butterfingers and U are physically okay. They’ve got a few dents and scrapes and are unresponsive, thanks to the water damage, but with a few repairs, they’ll be up and running in no time. DUM-E, on the other hand, is still up and rolling about like nothing ever happened. It makes Tony laugh, as he pulls a wriggling DUM-E back to shore. Figures Tony’s first attempt at an AI is too dumb to know when to give up and shut down.

As he secures DUM-E to the flatbed trailer, Tony looks out over the remains of his house and reminisces.

An entire world he built for himself, gone in the blink of an eye. A home he built to protect himself from the world and distance himself from his father, gone. His suits to protect himself and others, destroyed by his own hand. Single, but surprisingly not alone like he thought for so many years. A near death experience wiping the slate clean and giving him a fresh start on life. Tony’s really looking forward to that.

There’s just one last thing Tony has to do.

Tony pulls the arc reactor out of a paper bag. He tosses it up in air like a baseball, mulling the choice over in his mind. He doesn’t really have to do it. No one is watching. It’s a waste of resources. But Tony feels it’s important. It’s symbolic, even if it’s only to him.

With a resolute squeeze, Tony rears back and throws the arc reactor into the ocean. It soars through the air and lands with a splash in the ocean.

Tony lets out a heavy sigh, as the arc reactor that had been protecting his heart for years sinks below the waves. A chapter of his life closed. He’s done running. Time to begin anew.

“Rough day?” asks a familiar voice. Tony turns around to see Steve sanding by Tony’s car, a lopsided smile on his face.

“Rough week,” Tony says, barely able to contain a smile.

“I know. I saw,” Steve says, pulling out a newspaper. There, on the front cover, is detailed picture of Iron Man with a salacious title plastered over his left arm.

Tony scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Really? They decided to go with the Mark 33 on the front cover instead of the Mark 42? Who’s the editor this time? Clint? Travis? I should call and tell them to pay a little more attention to detail. Come on, people. I design suits to have different silhouettes for a reason.”

Steve laughs, as he carefully folds up the newspaper and stuffs it into his duffle bag. “Can’t resist staying out of the media for more than a day, can you.”

“What? Getting tired of seeing my face on the nine o’clock news?”

“Not really,” Steve says with a gentle smile. “More like I don’t like seeing my teammate throw himself headfirst into danger.”

Tony’s heart skips a beat. His ears burn, but he shrugs it off. “Don’t know what you were worried about. I had Rhodey,” he mumbles, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

“Still,” says Steve. “I don’t like seeing you get hurt.” And something about the softness of Steve’s words makes Tony blush.

“Aw, Cap. I thought you didn’t like me,” Tony says, trying to play off his embarrassment. God. Was California always this hot in winter? Maybe he should have ditched the suit jacket like Pepper suggested. He’s starting to feel a little hot under the collar.

Steve shrugs. “Maybe not at first. But what can I say, you’ve grown on me.”

“Like a cancer?” Tony asks, desperate to lighten the mood.

“Don’t give yourself too much credit,” Steve says, giving Tony a playful shove.

Tony laughs and shoves Steve back. God, it’s been so long since he talked with someone like this. “So, what brings you to California?” Tony asks as he casually kick a bit of gravel. “I’m assuming it’s this horrible weather we’re having and not my sunny disposition.”

“And what if it is?” asks Steve.

Tony looks up from the gravel. “I’m sorry?”

Steve bites down on his lip, but he can’t hide the small smile growing on his face. “What if I came to see you?”

Tony stares at Steve, speechless. He must have heard wrong. The anesthesia from his operation must still be working, five days later. “You came to see me? Why?”

“Why not?” Steve says. “Drove all the way across the country to see the sights. I heard you were back in town and I thought I might as well stop by and see how you were doing.”

Yup, the anesthesia Tony paid for must be the good shit because there’s no way Steve said something along the lines of ‘I missed you’ with a straight face.

“Yeah, no, I’m calling bullshit here,” Tony says, turning his back on Steve’s perfect smile.

Steve cocks his head. “Excuse me?”

“Yup, all of this,” Tony says, gesturing to the general ‘Steve’ area. “All of this, everything that you’re saying, it doesn’t make any sense.”

Steve sighs. “And what, exactly, doesn’t make sense?” Steve asks with the patience of a saint.

“Well, for one,” Tony says, because his brain is already working on all the reasons why Steve wouldn’t check in on Tony, like, ever. “Why would you come visit me? We text each other almost every day. All you need to do is send one message saying, ‘Hey Tony. How’s it going?’ ‘Not bad.’ Boom! You’re done.

“And, you said it yourself, I’m on the news pretty much every night. They can tell you exactly how I’m doing. Just turn on CNN, and there will be a panel of people talking about why antagonizing a supervillain is a bad idea.”

“Tony-”

“Not to mention, we meet for lunch almost weekly. I could have told you how I was doing over burgers and saved you the gas. There’s no logical reason for you to come all this way just to see me.”

“I think that’s the point,” says Steve.

“What’s the point?”

“Not being logical,” Steve says, with a shy smile. “Yeah, it would have been faster to text, but what if I wanted to see how you were in person. Is it really so hard to believe I came just to see if you’re okay?”

Tony looks at Steve speechless. God, when did Steve get so close? “I… um… You really didn’t have to.”

“Trust me,” Steve says, in a quiet voice that makes Tony want to melt. “I wanted to.”

Tony’s heart skips like a thousand beats and his cheeks flush bright red. He tries to laugh it off, but it sounds forced even to his ears. “God, when you say it like that, makes me almost think you like me.”

And huh, isn’t that interesting. Steve’s ears have turned red, and he looks just as flustered as Tony feels. “I didn’t mean it like- What I wanted to say was- What I meant to say is, once you get past all the bravado, you’re… well, you know… a really likeable guy,” he says, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh. Uh, thanks,” Tony mumbles, because he’s honestly not sure what else to say. He’s been covertly flirting with Captain America for so long, but he wasn’t prepared for Steve’s adorable attempt to flirt back.

They stay like that for a while, as the waves accent the awkward silence. Tony nervously rocks back and forth on his feet as an encyclopedia of emotions cross Steve’s face. Tony doesn’t want to admit it, but he is tongue tied. How can some as great as Steve be interested in someone as messed up as Tony?

Sure, he’s been flirting with Steve almost non-stop since they met, but that’s just what Tony does. He doesn’t really mean any of it. Except when he did. Like the time when he invited Steve to move into the hollowed-out bones of Stark Tower. Or that time when they met for lunch and Tony licked a bit of pizza sauce off of Steve’s cheek because they didn’t have a napkin. Or the thousands of texts they had sent to each other over the last six months that made Tony roll around in his bed like a teenage girl.

Those damn, fucking texts.

But he was with Pepper at the time. Not that Tony couldn’t love more than one person at a time. He could. He can. He’s done so, at least twice in the past. He just never thought Steve was interested in him like that. Steve’s been through so much. It was only right that Tony give Steve the time and space to figure out where he fit in the world.

Plus, he’s Captain America. The embodiment of all that is patriotic and good with the world. The man Tony’s father idolized and never stopped talking about. The man Tony would never be as good as. The symbol of perfection that Tony had learned to despise over years of unfair comparison.

But over the months, as they shared nachos on the pier and sent texts back and forth across the country, the polished persona of Captain America slipped away until all that was left was Steve. A scathingly sarcastic man with a brilliant smile and a laugh that made Tony’s heart melt into a puddle of goo. A man so beautiful, brilliant, kind, and brave Tony never wanted to look away

Yes, they both had their bad days: nights when Steve couldn’t sleep for fear of seeing Bucky’s haunting face in his nightmares, or days when Tony would try and drown his problems at the bottom of a bottle of whiskey. But whenever Tony saw Steve sitting across the table, smiling over a half-eaten lunch as if Tony’s mere presence took his breath away, it made all the drama in Tony’s life feel less terrible, even if it’s just for a few minutes. And in that moment and in all those moments leading up to this one, with waves eroding the mistakes of his past, giving him a fresh start at life, Tony realizes he never wants this feeling to stop.

Steve clears his throat. “I… um… noticed the arc reactor is gone,” Steve says, sparing a glance down at Tony’s chest.

Tony looks down. He’s still not used to being without the weight or the glow of his heart. “Yeah,” he says, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Got out of surgery a few days ago. Hurt like hell, but it was worth it. Suits are gone too, for the record.”

Steve’s jaw drops. “Seriously? I thought that was all just for show.”

“Nope. Destroyed them. Every last one of them including the original prototypes,” Tony says, with a proud little hop. “Honestly, it’s for the best. The older ones were just trophies collecting dust and I made the newer ones in an anxiety-induced frenzy that I’d rather not think about. Lots of bad memories, but the sooner I can move on, the better.”

“Move on from what?” asks Steve.

A whole essay of traumas, but Tony isn’t about to tell Steve that. “I think the more important question is, what am I moving forward to? Somehow, through this entire series of crazy events, I found out I’ve got a soulmate. Can you believe it? I can’t. So, various questions aside, I thought getting the arc reactor removed and destroying the suits would be a good first step in making myself presentable for him. Or her. You know, I never really thought about my soulmate’s gender, but I have a really strong feeling it’s a ‘him’.”

“You have a soulmate?”

Oh ye of little faith. “Don’t act so surprised, Steve. Not everything you read on the internet is true. But to answer your question, yes, I have a soulmate. Felt him for the first time in years at the Battle of New York. Honestly, I thought it was a fluke. I’m, what, in my mid-forties and I’ve almost died how many times? Hard to believe there was someone out there waiting for me when all I got was radio silence in Afghanistan.

“But, then I felt him again when the Mandarin tried to kill me and just… wow,” Tony says, miming an explosion. “Kind of a wakeup call, actually feeling the soul bond and knowing there’s someone out there who wants you to live.”

Steve’s shocked face looks exactly how Tony feels. “That’s when… Wow. I… That’s great, I guess?”

“Yeah,” Tony says. He smiles, remembering the unconditional love and warmth from his soulmate. He’s probably blushing up a storm too, but Tony doesn’t mind. He deserves it, after all the crap he’s been through.

“Still would like to punch them in the face for being so late,” Tony mutters aloud. “Could have used the emotional support for the last, say, twenty or thirty years. But hey, I still got a soulmate. Never thought I’d be able to say that again.”

“So, now that you know you have a soulmate, what’s next?” asks Steve. “You going to look for him?”

Tony shakes his head. “Nah. Soulmates are next to impossible to locate unless the soul bond is activated. And, honestly, I’m not looking at dying any time soon. For now, I was thinking of focusing my efforts on rebuilding my life in New York. New life. New location. New York feels like a good place to look at the world anew,” Tony says, with a sly smile.

Steve chuckles at the badly made pun, much to Tony’s delight. “Well, if you’re not going to use your vast wealth to find him, Daddy Warbucks, look me up when you get settled in. I might be able to pull a few strings at SHIELD and help you find him.”

“Oh? Headed back already?” asks Tony.

“What can I say,” Steve says with a shrug. “I miss home. Plus, Fury has a few assignments he wants me to take a look at. Said he’d be willing to fly my bike cross country if it got me back to SHIELD faster.”

Tony sighs. “Steve, you really should know better than to play into Fury’s hands. All work and no play makes the damn pirate’s day.”

Steve gives Tony a cocky smile. “Yeah, well, give me a call when you get settled in and we’ll see about that. I can play pretty hard when I know my way around the city. I know this great place on 5th. Owner owes me a favor. Got his best man out of a jam with a match, some scissors, and a mariachi band.”

“Really?” Tony says, already knowing the cops are involved in some way, shape, or form. “Sounds like quite the story.”

“I’ll tell you all about it if you like. Say over dinner? My treat,” offers Steve.

Tony’s about to decline, he has too much to do when he gets back to New York, but something about the way Steve presents the offer makes him pause. The smile on Steve’s face, the nervous shuffling of shoes on the gravel, the fact that he came all this way to seek Tony out.

“Steve,” Tony says carefully. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

Steve blushes. “Maybe. Is it working?”

Tony grins. “Yeah,” he says, his voice no louder than a whisper. “Yeah, I think it is.”

* * *

 

Steve takes Tony on that date, and it’s everything Tony could have hoped for. It has nothing to do with the actual date, and everything to do with the company. Steve and Tony spend hours just chatting and laughing away in a quaint little booth at the back of the restaurant. They play footsie under the table, and Steve tries his best to openly flirt with Tony. Some of the lines Steve uses are too old or too cheesy, and they both have a good laugh about it. But occasionally, Steve says something extra smooth and it makes Tony blush as red as the tomato sauce on their pasta. Tony won’t admit it, but Steve is actually pretty good at flirting.

The food, as Steve said, is quite good, but it’s a footnote in Tony’s book. He’s too focused on watching the way the candlelight dances across the contours of Steve’s face and listening to the lightness in Steve’s voice every time he laughs. They cover their usual lunch conversation topics: the future of the Avengers, history, pop culture, and their day-to-day activities. But there’s something special about the evening that makes the conversation all the more meaningful.

Maybe it’s the fact that they’re officially on a date and Tony doesn’t have to hide his enamored looks behind a menu or a hastily thrown together distraction. Or maybe it’s the way that Steve smiles at Tony, as Tony talks about thermonuclear dynamics and its applications for the third time tonight. Or it could be the wine. Yup, it’s definitely the wine.

At the end of the night, Steve walks Tony to his door to say his goodbyes. Tony invites Steve in for a cup of coffee (and maybe something else, if Tony is lucky) but Steve refuses. Says, while the offer is nice, he’ll take a second date over coffee.

Tony’s a little disappointed about the lack of sex, but he’s more than okay agreeing to a second date. After all, second dates lead to third dates. And third dates, if everything goes well, lead to something more. At least, that’s what Tony hopes will happen. He cannot stress enough how much he _really_ wants it to happen. And it’s not because he’s horny. … Okay, fine, he is a bit horny. But that’s not the point.

Tony is excited because … Well, he might be a little too late to admit it, but Tony really likes Steve. Like, a lot. Maybe even more than he liked Pepper.

So what if their relationship wasn’t love at first sight? That doesn’t stop Tony from floating on cloud nine, as he says goodbye to Steve at the end of a romantic night. It doesn’t stop Tony from texting Steve five minutes later to say that he had a great time and he can’t wait to see Steve again. Screw the three day rule. Tony’s too old for that being coy shit. He’ll text the guy he likes as much and as often as he wants.

Because after months of texting, after two dozen casual lunch dates and one romantic dinner date, Tony is finally ready to admit to himself that he likes Steve as more than a friend.

And Steve, well, he clearly likes Tony. The bedroom eyes over dinner, flirtatious one liners and shy looks, Tony’s ninety percent sure Steve wants in Tony’s pants just as much as Tony does. So why is Steve taking so long to put the moves on Tony? It’s not like Tony minds taking things slow. There’s a certain type of romance that comes with late night walks in the park and goodnight kisses.

On the other hand, Tony is a grown-ass adult. He’s had dates strip off their clothes within the first five minutes of saying hello and been perfectly fine with it. He knows what he wants and he knows how much he can take at one time. Tony shouldn’t have to wait for the third date for to do something as simple as a peck on the cheek.

Well, despite how much his dick wants them to move faster, karma must have it out for him because it takes two months before Tony even gets to see a bit of action. Granted, the action he gets is pretty great.

They’re on their sixth date at this point. Or is it seventh? Tony’s not sure if their weekend getaway to Greece counts as one date or two, considering they were out and about for a solid three days.

Regardless, Tony’s suggested a casual skate at the Rockefeller Ice Rink. Steve’s never been before, so Tony thinks it’s as good a time as any to go. The rink is closing in a few weeks and it shouldn’t be too crowded considering it’s the end of the season.

Steve agrees and it’s an interesting experience to say the least. Tony is having a blast skating circles literal circles around the ice. Steve, on the other hand, is not having such a good time. He’s got one hand firmly on the rail as he shuffles his way around the icy surface. Tony offers Steve pointers on how to skate, but Steve is stubborn. He wants to do it himself.

After a good twenty minutes of going around in circles, Steve feels confident enough to let go of the wall. He slowly ventures out toward the center of the ice, hands outstretched and ready to catch himself if he falls. Tony is by his side the entire time offering support and encouragement. The first few steps go well. Steve is perfectly balanced and traveling across the ice at a nice, slow pace. He takes a few more steps and doesn’t fall.

“See? Everything’s fine. You’re doing great Steve.”

Steve smiles, but a second later he hits slick spot. Steve’s right foot slides a little farther than expected and he begins to panic. His arms start flailing about like a fish desperate for water. Tony tries to help, but instead of putting his life in Tony’s hands, Steve grabs Tony by the wrist and drags them both down to the ground.

Tony cries out and lands with a loud “oof”, square across Steve’s chest.

“Sorry,” Steve says, for like the fifteenth time today.

“It’s fine. Happens to the best of us,” Tony groans, as he hears a few tourists snap an opportune picture. A few onlookers point and mummer as they continue to skate around the rink, but Tony tries to ignore them. Falling in public is a blow to the ego, but all things considered it could be a lot worse. There’s no blood on the ground and so far, nobody is cursing Tony out for getting a bit handsy with America’s favorite patriot.

“You sure?” asks Steve.

Tony grunts as he pushes himself up. He intends to say, “Yes,” but when he looks down and sees Steve splayed out underneath him: warm pink cheeks, red lips, sparkling blue eyes, and a dusting of white snow sprinkled in his blond hair like a crown of stars, every word in existence disappears from Tony’s head.

“Tony?”

Tony opens his mouth, but no words come out. Seeing Steve like this, it leaves Tony feeling breathless. And what’s funny is that there’s nothing particularly special or romantic about this moment.

They’ve gone on literal walks on the beach. They’ve gone to fucking Paris and watched the Eiffel Tower light up while wrapped in each other’s arms. Tony’s seen Steve naked in the SHIELD locker room more times than he can count, and Steve has pulled Tony into a slew of compromising positions during Avenger missions that remind Tony of poses only found in the Kamasutra.

There have been hundreds of opportunities for their first kiss that they haven’t taken. So why now? Why here, in the middle of the ice, in front of hundreds of people? Why now, as Tony pushes a bit of frost out of Steve’s bangs, does he feel the burning desire to kiss Steve?

“Are you…” Steve’s voice trails off, as Tony traces the outline of Steve’s cheek.

Tony lets out a shaky breath. “I know you’re not one for public displays for affection,” Tony says, his words coming out as tiny clouds in the cold late winter air. “But I’d really like to kiss you right now if that’s okay.”

Steve’s face flushes a deep shade of red. He looks away, but not because he’s saying ‘no.’ Steve bites down on a smile, because he’s just really embarrassed about how much he wants to say ‘yes.’ “Yeah,” Steve says, his voice soft enough for only Tony to hear. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

Tony smiles. He closes his eyes and presses a gentle kiss to Steve’s lips. Steve hums. He wraps his arms around Tony’s neck and kisses back.

Tony tries to keep it chaste, but Steve is hungry. Steve opens his mouth and the next thing Tony knows, there’s tongue and teeth and a warmth in his bones that Tony can’t name. His mind melts into mush until the only thing Tony can feel is Steve.

Tony runs his fingers though Steve’s hair, as Steve desperately tries to find traction on the ice so he can wrap his legs around Tony’s waist. Tony lets out a heavy groan as Steve tugs on Tony’s lower lip. Steve kisses like Tony is a glass of water in the middle of a dessert. Tony, on the other hand, wants to take it slow. He wants to savor this moment. He’s never felt this way with anyone before. It’s like something deep within his soul is responding to Steve’s touch. The heat from the kiss, the warmth that courses through his veins like flood waters breaking through a dam, Tony feels like he’s burning from the inside out.

Finally, they break apart, both gasping for air. Their breaths mingle together and as Tony looks down at Steve, he can’t help but smile. Steve’s pupils are blown wide by the kiss. His plump, wet lips sparkle like freshly fallen snow in the sunlight. His cheeks are flushed in a permanent state of scarlet. He’s got a goofy yet satisfied smile on his face and his hair is a wild mess across the ice. Tony ventures a guess that onlookers would think they look absolutely ridiculous making out on the middle of the ice rink like horny teenagers, but Tony doesn’t care. With just one kiss, just one touch, Tony realizes how deep his affections for Steve really are, and how much he wants to be with Steve for the rest of his life.

As Tony’s senses come back to him and he becomes aware of the world outside of Steve’s kiss, he hears a wave of cheers erupt around them. Tony looks ups as spectators on the ice and around the rink lose their minds over Steve and Tony’s first kiss. Cameras flash, and a few high pitched whistles pierce through the crowd.

Tony chuckles awkwardly and waves to the crowd. More screams. More cameras shutter, as both amateur and professional photographers try to capture the perfect shot.

Steve also sits up as he looks around the rink, but his reaction to all the attention is different compared to Tony. Within seconds, the blissed out look in his eyes disappears. He’s not panicking, at least not yet, but the look on Steve’s face says he’s not quite sure where he stands in terms of the crowd’s reaction.

Tony understands. Steven Grant Rogers isn’t just some guy on the street that came out of the closet at an inopportune time. He’s Captain America. He’s a role model for millions of Americans. He’s got a reputation to uphold. He’s supposed to be the embodiment of all things good. Keeper of truth, justice, and the American way. And by default (because fuck societal expectations), straight. Kissing your sorta-but-not-quite-yet-because-they-hadn’t–discussed-it-in-detail boyfriend in the middle of Rockefeller Center probably wasn’t what Steve had in mind if and when he wanted to come out.

Plus, Steve grew up in a time where being open and queer wasn’t as widely acceptable as it is now. So, he might be in shock that he isn’t being arrested now and… Oh god. Did Tony just out Steve because of his selfish desire to bone? Fuck. Tony did not want Steve to have an existential crisis about his sexuality mere minutes after the most amazing first kiss Tony has ever experienced. Tony was openly queer but Steve, fuck, they had never discussed Steve’s sexuality in detail. Tony assumed from their discussion about Bucky that Steve was gay, but considering neither of them explicitly said anything- Shit. Fuck, this was bad.

Desperate to fix the situation, Tony does what he knows best and takes charge of the situation. He helps Steve to his feet and tells him to smile for the cameras. As they wave at the crowd, Tony tries to reassure Steve that everything will be alright.

“Just follow my lead, Cap,” Tony says in a voice soft enough only Steve’s super hearing can pick up. “These things happen all the time. We’ll get through this eventually. It’s normal for celebrities of our caliber to have our faces plastered on the front page of a trashy magazine.”

“Tony, I-”

“People are going to speculate about our relationship because of the kiss, but if we get in touch with the right people, we can mitigate the damage those rumors can cause. I can get Pepper to set up a press conference or interviews if you like, but you don’t have to confirm or deny anything you don’t want.

“Of course, people are going to talk. The internet is going to be ablaze with speculation for weeks, but that all dies down eventually. They’ll forget everything that happened and move onto the next scandal. But I should warn you, a lot of queer people are going to ask you if you’re one of them for a long time, and you might get a rainbow or two in the mail sometime in the near future. That’s not a bad thing. Rainbows are great. I love rainbows. I’m just saying, maybe it would be best if we kept a low profile until all this blows over. You know, just until-”

“Tony.” Steve cuts him off with an abrupt squeeze of his hand.

Tony stops mid-sentence. He looks up and sees Steve smiling. “I- I think I’m okay with this,” he says.

“You are?” asks Tony.

Steve nods. “I said _yes_ knowing full well that someone would notice us. I’m- I’m okay if people think that we’re _that way_.”

Tony’s heart skips a beat. “Really! I mean, only if you’re sure. I know things were different back in your day, and I don’t want to push you into something you’re not comfortable with. You’ve been through a lot, and I don’t want you to say _yes_ just because I put you on the spot.”

Steve chuckles and presses a kiss to Tony’s brow. “I promise you, I’m sure.”

* * *

 

A few days later, Steve holds a press conference and comes out to the public. The announcement that Captain America is gay takes the world by storm. Tony is bombarded with invasive questions about his boyfriend and their yet to be established sex life, but Tony takes it in stride. Yes, a few reporters get too personal with their questions, but Tony’s just happy with that fact that he can finally hold his boyfriend’s hand in public without looking over his shoulder ever couple of feet.

Steve moving into Avengers Tower only makes things better.

Steve is a constant light in Tony’s life. Their interactions aren’t much different from their casual lunch dates, and yet it’s so much better. They cuddle more, kiss more, and are able to spend hours casually watching classic sci fi movies, while Tony gleefully watches Steve’s reactions as he bites down on spoilers. Steve laughs at all of Tony’s badly timed innuendos and it’s like music to his ears. He immediately takes to Tony’s bots like a fish takes to water, and Tony wonders for the third time this week how he got so lucky.

Of course, not everything is sunshine and rainbows. Relationships don’t magically make everything wrong in your life better. Steve occasionally wakes up in a cold sweat screaming Bucky’s name, and Tony still has his fair share of panic attacks. But having someone who understand your struggles, someone who is always there for you and supports you no matter what, it helps. With Steve by his side, Tony’s able to recover from his panic attacks faster, and Steve’s nightmares become less and less frequent over time, as Tony rubs his back and reassures him everything is okay.

It’s not perfect. Steve and Tony are definitely their own brand of fucked up, but it’s nice and it works for them.

And in the wee hours of the night, when they’re alone and the only light in the room is from the New York skyline, they talk. Sometimes it’s light and fluffy pillow talk after an intense round of sex. Other time it’s deeper, much deeper.

Sometimes Steve traces his fingers across Tony’s cheek and talks about insecurities he has. How he angers too easily. How he works too much. How he’s worried that one day, Tony will wake up and realize he deserves better than Steve. Because he does. After everything Tony’s been through: kidnapping, torture, sacrificing himself on multiple occasions to keep others safe, Tony deserves every kindness life has to offer. And Steve, well, sometimes he wonders if he is good enough to be that kindness.

Tony has such a big heart. He opened his doors when Steve was lost, and offered a hand when Steve needed a friend. He’s given more than his fair share back to the community and done everything in his power to right the wrongs of his past. It’s something to be commended for and something Steve more than admires in his boyfriend. It makes him proud, but also afraid.

Steve lost his soulmate in the war. His bond with Bucky Barnes was like nothing he’s ever felt before and it nearly destroyed Steve when he died. He loves Tony, but a part of him is afraid of what might happen if the same fate befalls him. Steve tries not to be overprotective during missions, but Steve still worries. Bucky meant so much to him and losing him so suddenly… Steve doesn’t want Tony to think of himself as Bucky’s replacement. He isn’t and he never will be. But Steve sees a lot of his soulmate in Tony and sometimes he can’t help but worry.

Tony nods. He can’t begin to understand, but he wants to try. His own experience with soulmates is so different from Steve’s. Having nothing but radio silence from his soulmate for years definitely did a number on Tony’s self-esteem. For so long, Tony felt so alone in the world. And now that Tony knows he has a soulmate, it just makes things complicated.

He isn’t going to drop Steve the moment Tony finds his soulmate. He would never. Steve means too much to him. If anything, Tony’s going to punch his soulmate in the face and give them an hour-long lecture about how they’re a horrible for abandoning him before storming off and never speaking to them ever again.

He loves Steve and no matter who biology or the universe says Tony is most compatible with, it doesn’t matter. Tony isn’t in love with his soulmate. Tony doesn’t want a relationship with someone who gave him the cold shoulder in his time of need. He’s a grown-ass man with free will. He can make his own decisions without the universe’s approval. And Tony knows for a fact that he would rather be in a relationship with someone who cares about him, someone who knows him inside and out, than be in a relationship with a cold nobody that biology had chosen for him.

When Tony tells Steve this, Steve offers Tony a sad smile. He looks like he has something important to say, but instead he pushes a stray hair out of Tony’s face and tells him that he has every right to be upset. His soulmate left Tony out in the cold to fend for himself. It’s okay to be angry. It’s okay to be resentful. It’s okay for Tony to be upset. Steve doesn’t know Tony’s soulmate, but he’s sure they didn’t block him out intentionally. And maybe Steve is overstepping his boundaries, but he’s positive they have a good reason for reaching out to Tony after so many years of silence.

Tony huffs and says he highly doubts it.

Steve chuckles and says that Tony shouldn’t worry about it. Maybe Tony’s soulmate isn’t the answer to all his problems, but they’re together now. They’re happy, and that’s all that matters. And if Tony’s soulmate ever does come around, Steve intends to do everything in his power to keep Tony by his side.

And Tony, well, Tony likes the sound of that. And as he goes to sleep in the arms of the love of his life, Tony allows himself the luxury to trust Steve. Maybe his soulmate is an ass, but that doesn’t matter. Tony has Steve, and as long as they’re together that’s all that matters.

* * *

 

But like all good things, the honeymoon stage of their relationship doesn’t last forever.

“Another secret mission from Fury?” Tony is starting to get pissed about all these last-minute reasons to pull Steve from his bed.

“No,” Steve says as he buttons up his shirt. “And even if it was, I couldn’t tell you. It’s a secret,” Steve says with a flirtatious wink.

Tony groans and flops back into bed. “Steve, you are the only person I know that can make the word ‘classified’ sound sexy.”

“You know you love that about me,” Steve says, pressing a quick kiss to Tony’s forehead.

Tony smiles, but he’s not about to let his boyfriend have the last laugh. “I know. It’s just every time Fury sends you out on one of these ‘covert’ missions, I can’t shake the feeling that something bad is going to happen.”

“And you’re sure it isn’t because you hate him?” asks Steve as he shimmies into a pair of jeans.

Tony resists the urge to roll his eyes. “I don’t hate him,” Tony says. “I have a professional distrust for the man. And you should too, Steve. He’s up to no good. I know it. If only I could find a way to get back into his servers.”

“I’m not helping you plant another bug in SHIELD if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh, come on. It was funny!”

Steve shakes his head. “You played ‘Secret Agent Man’ over the intercoms for five hours straight. Natasha threatened to skin you alive, and Clint almost knocked himself out just to make it stop.”

Tony laughs. Ah, good times. “What did we ever do to get such great friends?”

“Nothing good, that’s for sure,” Steve says as he shrugs a jacket on. “How do I look?” he asks, giving Tony a little twirl.

Tony hums. “Not bad. But I think you’d look better with your clothes off and my cock in your ass.”

Steve laughs but he doesn’t do as Tony suggests. Instead, he walks over to the side of the bed and asks, “Can you move over for a second?”

Tony pulls his knees up to his chest, and Steve sits down in the empty spot. The mattress sinks under his weight and Tony quietly think about how to replicate the feeling when Steve is a thousand miles away.

Steve take’s Tony’s hand in his and gives in a gentle squeeze. "I know you’re worried about me going to DC for a few weeks. Fury’s been sending me out into the field a lot, but I promise all of this is just temporary. Natasha is going to be with me every step of the way. You have nothing to worry about.”

“I know,” Tony mutters. “It’s just- Fury’s been acting shady for the past few months. He’s up to something, but I can’t figure out what.”

“You could always ask him.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “If I did, there’d be a contract on my desk asking for guns in exchange for information. Thanks, but I have enough people asking me to resume weapons manufacturing without a one-eyed parrot on my shoulder pestering me for the same thing.”

Steve smiles. He presses a kiss to Tony’s temple and holds him close. “I’ll be fine, promise,” he says, his low voice reverberating through Tony’s bones. “I’ll try not to do anything rash this time.”

Tony snorts, but there’s a smile at the corner of his mouth. “That’s a blatant lie and you know it.”

Steve chuckles and presses one last kiss to Tony’s lips. “Text me when you land in Taiwan?”

“Always,” Tony says.

Steve smiles. He gives Tony’s hand one last squeeze before grabbing his bag and heading to the door.

“Hey, Steve?” Tony says just as Steve’s about to leave.

Steve turns around, his hand on the doorknob. There’s a fond look in his eyes and, for a second Tony wishes they could stay like this forever. “Yes?”

Tony opens his mouth, but there’s too much he wants to say and not enough time to say it. “Just… be careful,” he says.

Steve smiles, and Tony tries to memorize the blush in Steve’s cheeks. “I will. Love you too, Tony.”

Steve leaves, closing the door behind him. And because he’s such a coward, Tony covers his mouth with his hands and tells the empty room, “Not as much as I love you, Steve.”

* * *

 

Steve goes to Washington and everything is fine. Then the Winter Soldier kills Fury and the entire world as they know turns upside down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you guys next week for our dive into Captain America: The Winter Soldier. Feel free to scream at me in the comments. I need it after all the problems Steve and Tony have been giving me this past week. I swear I need to write the ending, but I'm stuck sorting out their stupid emotional dilemmas.


	7. Bucky Barnes/ Steve Rogers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HYDRA attempts a coup. No one leaves DC unscathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another near death incident in this chapter. Sorry if anyone feels I've been slacking off on the warnings. I'll try to be better since things are starting to heat up. Keep your whits about you my darlings <3

The Asset wakes up with an empty mind. His handlers give him a picture of a man with an eyepatch and a serious expression on his face. They say his name is Nicholas Fury. He’s one of the top five most wanted people on HYDRA’s hit list. He is to be considered armed and extremely dangerous. He is the Asset’s next target.

A few hours later, the Asset’s mission is complete.

He returns to base to have his memory wiped, but his handlers have different plans. Instead of putting him back in cryo like they normally do, HYDRA gives him another assignment. The end game is upon them. They need him in the field.

This time, they give him two pictures. One picture is of a woman with sharp eyes and striking red hair. The other is of a gorgeous man in a dark blue uniform with soft blond hair. The Asset memorizes their faces as usual, and, as he does, a long forgotten memory stirs in the back of his head. He’s not sure why, but he feels a deep sense of pride as he looks at the woman, and as he takes in the profile of the beautiful blond man, a small smile tugs at his lips and his heart skip a beat. The two targets in his hand look familiar, and it bothers the Asset as to why.

The Asset wants to ask his handlers why he recognizes his next two targets, but his handlers ignore him and their meticulous pre-mission checklist. HYDRA’s final attack is coming soon, and there’s no time to waste. The Asset has performed without a hitch for sixty years. They see no reason to go over a decade’s old checklist or address the Asset’s vague sense of déjà vu.

So, the Asset stays silent. He lets the question go and focusses on his mission like he’s expected to do. His handlers give him one last rundown of the mission parameters before sending him on his way. They remind him that the man and woman’s death is paramount for HYDRA’s success. He is to us any and all means necessary to kill them before the final stage of Zola’s master plan commences.

The Asset nods and complies with their orders. He attacks from the shadows, sets traps, and does what his handlers expect of him. But the longer the Asset stays out, the more confusing things get.

Something is off and he can’t put his finger on what it is. Every time the Asset sends his men to attack the blond man and the red haired woman, guilt eats away at his soul. And every time the two walk away, bloodied and bruised but alive, he lets out a sigh of relief as if their survival is more meaningful than their death.

It doesn’t. And these reoccurring thoughts bother him.

He isn’t supposed to be like this. The Asset is supposed to be an emotionless machine. He’s supposed to be the most effective asset in HYDRA’s arsenal. He’s not supposed to feel anything, least of all guilt over killing people or relief at their persistent survival.

So, in an effort to bring an efficient end to his guilty conscious, the Asset takes things into his own hands. He confronts his mission in the middle of a busy highway and does everything he can to stop them in their tracks.

* * *

 

The fight is long and explosive. The man and woman are strong and well trained, just like his handlers said. The Asset finds himself equally matched by the blond man up until the Asset takes his mask and goggles off. The moment the man in blue sees the Asset’s face, his eyes grown big as if he’s just seen a ghost.

“Bucky?”

The name means nothing to the Asset, but in the depths of his soul, something long forgotten reacts to the man’s familiar voice.

“Who the hell is Bucky?” asks the Asset.

The man doesn’t have time to answer. The woman yells at him to duck, and shoots a rocket at the Asset.

It misses. The blast knocks them all off their feet, but only the Asset is smart enough to know when to make himself scares. The Asset makes a tactical retreat, and allows HYDRA’s foot soldiers to surround the duo and clean up the mess.

Later, as the countdown inches closer to zero, the Asset’s handlers find out that both the man and the woman escaped custody once again. With a frustrated groan, they prepare the Asset for one last mission.

They’re in the end game now. The Asset cannot fail. For the glory of HYDRA, the Asset must complete his mission.

* * *

 

The Asset and the man meet again on the bridge of the last helicarrier. They both have a mission, but the Asset is the one that must win above all else.

His mission tries to convince him to stand down. He appeals to the Asset’s sense of morality. “People are going to die, Buck. Please, don’t make me do this.”

The Asset doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to. There are no words to be said. He has no sense of morality. He cannot be swayed one way or another. He is an extension of HYDRA’s will. The only things he cares about is completing his mission.

Not receiving the answer he’s looking for; the man surges forward. The Assets fires his gun.

They fight. The Asset shoots to kill. His mission doesn’t. That is the difference between them. The Asset can tell his mission distracted. He’s more focused on putting the chip in place than killing the Asset. His first mistake. His second mistake, and more importantly, is that his mission is pulling his punches. He doesn’t want to hurt the Asset. The Asset uses it to his advantage.

The Asset stabs the man in the shoulder. The man cries out in pain and drops the chip. He makes a grab to retrieve it, but the Asset is faster. The Asset secures the chip. His mission tries to get it back. The Asset doesn’t let him.

They fight for possession of the chip up and down the catwalk. A stray punch hits him and the chip flies out of the Asset’s hand, down to the glass floor below. Both the Asset and the man chase after it.

The Asset secures the chip, but the man doesn’t give up so easily. He lays into the Asset like he’s a punching bag and it actually hurts. The Asset blocks a few of the punches, but the man gets lucky. The Asset is knocked off balance, but grip on the chip is strong. He’s not going to let it go easily. His mission, however, is stronger.

He wrestles the Asset to the ground and wraps his head in a chokehold. The Asset tries to escape. He claws at the man’s arm in an attempt to loosen his grip, but even the Asset’s metal hand is no match for a super soldier covered in Kevlar armor.

“Let go,” the man says.

The Asset growls. He digs his fingers into the fabric, desperate to be free.

The man wrestles the Asset’s metal arm underneath this leg and tightens his grip around his neck. “Let go!”

The Asset gasps for air. He tries to kick himself out of the man’s grasp, but it’s useless. The man has him completely pinned. The Asset is fighting a losing battle. His vision blurs as he starts to lose consciousness. The Asset waits for his mission to snap his neck, but the killing blow never comes. A sign of weakness.

The Asset passes out and drops the chip. When he comes to, the chip is gone. He looks up and see the mission, chip in hand, making his way up the column toward the computer hub.

The Asset stumbles to his feet. He feels dizzy and disoriented, but that’s never stopped him before. The Asset has suffered worse.

He grabs the gun and lines up the killing shot.

The Asset aims for the head. He pulls the trigger. He hits the leg.

The Asset aims for the head. He hits an arm.

The Asset aims for the head.

…

The Asset aims for the head.

…

The Asset aims for the head!

…

Why can’t he fucking shoot?!

The man pulls himself up over the ledge with a grunt and climbs up to the catwalk.

The Asset sneers. He throws down the gun in disgust. He gets within jumping distance of the column, and prepares to climb after his mission. But something holds him back. Something makes him hesitate. It’s starting to piss him off.

Why is he hesitating? Why did he miss? He never misses. There’s never been a reason to miss a kill shot. The Asset has murdered hundreds of people without hesitation or an ounce of regret. That’s how HYDRA programmed him. They created him to be the ultimate killing machine: covert, efficient, and unfeeling. So why is this man different? Why can’t he bring himself to kill this one man?

A computerized chirp from above pulls the Asset out of his existential crisis. The man has installed the chip in the console. The helicarriers fly up into the air and proceed to fire at themselves. The glass trembles beneath the Asset’s feet as the ships self-destruct, one bullet at a time.

The Asset bites down on a growl of frustration. This can’t be happening. For the first time in his entire existence, the Winter Soldier has failed his mission.

“Damn it,” he curses. Of all the times for a glitch to occur, this had to be the worst one. His handlers will not be pleased with this.

Then, the Asset hears a low groan followed by a loud shriek of metal. He looks up just in time to see a large support beam falls straight toward him. He tries to get out of the way, but it’s too late. The heavy beam falls on top of him, pinning him to the ground.

The Asset screams as the dense metal crushes his legs. He tries to break free, but the beam is too heavy. His flesh arm is pinned down to the glass and his metal arm doesn’t have the leverage to push himself out. The Asset tries again to wriggle free, but the beam is too big and bulky for him to get any traction. His injuries seize and the Asset screams as a searing pain courses through his body.

A large piece of machinery falls down a few feet away from the Asset’s head. He looks up and sees warped metal raining down all around him. He feels the ship vibrate and whine as one of its engines explodes in a ball of fire.

The Asset allows his head to loll back. He’s not giving up. His programming won’t allow him to do that. But everything around him is falling apart and he doesn’t see a way out. If nothing changes, the Asset is going to die here. A strange tightness forms in his chest as the Asset accepts this fact. And he’s not sure if it’s the grip of frustration at his failure or a long-held sigh of relief.

Then, against all odds, his mission jumps down from the console. He lifts up the beam up and the Asset scrambles out. They look at each other for a moment as the world crashes down around them, not quite sure what the other will do.

The Asset knows what he has to do. He may have failed to stop the man from completing his mission, but the Asset can still complete his. As an extension of HYDRA’s will, he must execute his mission. He must kill Captain America.

But instead of reaching for his gun, he just stares at the man. He examines the man’s jawline and, for some reason, remembers tracing it with his fingers as the early morning sunlight filters into their drafty, one bedroom apartment. His heart races at the familiar sight of stubborn determination burning behind the man’s deep blue eyes. He feels breathless and once again, the Asset isn’t sure if it’s relief or fear.

“You know me,” says the man, and his words strike a chord buried deep within the Asset’s memory.

“No, I don’t!” screams the Asset. He lashes out and punches the man in the face. He doesn’t know this man. He doesn’t remember him. He doesn’t know a thing about him, and yet he does.

“You’ve known me your whole life,” says the man.

“You lie!” the Asset screams. He punches him again as moments from a life he doesn’t remember flash before his eyes.

The man stumbles back. He wipes a bit of blood off his lip and rights himself. The Asset expects him to fight back, but something unexpected happens. He takes off his helmet and throws it on the ground, leaving him open and exposed.

“I’m not going to fight you,” the man says, his beautiful blond hair waving in the wind as fire burns all around them. “I can’t. You’re my friend, Buck. You’re my everything. You’re my soulmate.”

Those three words awaken something hidden deep within the Asset’s programming. The Asset gasps as a wave of emotions over takes him: feelings of relief from close calls and ‘just in times,” feelings of sadness and grief over the distance between them as bullets fly over his head, and a feeling of happiness as the man in blue appears just in time to save the day.

The Asset is starting to remember and he doesn’t like it. He screams and tackles the man to the ground. The man doesn’t resist.

The Asset holds him down and punches him in the face. “Liar! You’re my mission!” he yells over the din of metal scraping against metal. “You’re my mission!”

The man doesn’t push him away. Instead, he looks up at the Asset through sad, swollen eyes and says through a bleeding lip. “Then finish it. Because I’m with you ‘til the end of the line.”

The Asset growls. He places on hand on the man’s throat and reals back to finish the job. But instead of landing the finishing blow, he hesitates. He looks down at the helpless man underneath him and the longer he looks at his mission, the more he realizes he can’t. The man has gotten into his head. The Asset cannot execute his mission.

And with this realization, it’s like a gate in his mind opens. The Asset is overcome by a wave of pain as his long forgotten subconscious fights for survival against his programming. His hand quivers. His heart aches. His mind is abuzz with a mix of memories and questions about everything HYDRA has done to him over the last seventy years.

Something is broken. This man has broken something in him. He feels so much. He feels shock and anger at his actions. He feels relief and fear about his situation. But more than anything, he feels hope and love. And it terrifies him.

There’s a loud creak above him. A large column falls, and the glass shatters beneath them.

They fall.

The Asset grabs hold of a beam with his metal hand. His mission doesn’t make any attempt to save himself. The Asset watches, slack-jawed, as his mission falls down into the river below. The red, white, and blue uniform that he knows so intimately, disappears below the murky water.

The Asset stares at the river. His mission doesn’t resurface. No air bubbles float to the surface. A minute passes. Then two. The Asset knows what will happen if his mission doesn’t resurface. He will drown and die, just like his handlers at HYDRA had wanted.

But now that his mission is completed, what next? The Asset knows he should return to his handlers. His mission is complete. He must return for decommissioning. He is broken and in need of fixing.

But for some reason, the Asset doesn’t pull himself up. He just looks down at the water as a cold pulse radiates throughout his chest. His breathing becomes heavy and labored as his lungs fill with water. Only there’s no water to drown in and what he’s feeling is not his lungs. It’s someone else’s.

The pulse of energy under his skin unlocks something in the recesses of his mind. A memory that HYDRA suppressed under months of conditioning because they couldn’t destroy it. The Asset closes his eyes and gives the memory a gentle push. A wave of emotions washes over him and it almost causes him to let go.

It’s his soulmate. He knows it is. He’s been waiting years to feel them again. But the spark of excitement quickly warps into confusion.

This pressure in his chest doesn’t match what he felt all those years ago. His soulmate was small and warm like the sun. This is person is cold like ice and snow. This isn’t anything like he felt all those years ago. And yet, the feeling of cold, frosty hands reaching out for him feels familiar.

‘Goodbye, my love,’ says the voice in his head. ‘At least I was able to see you one last time.’

The Asset looks down at the water. The soul bond pulls him down to its murky depths, but his programming tells him to hold onto the beam. His programming tells him to report back to his handlers. Go back to HYDRA and await his next mission. Leave this man to drown. Forget him. Forget about his soulmate. Only think about HYDRA. Remember that HYDRA will kill him if he doesn’t return.

HYDRA is the only thing that matters.

‘You’re not warm. You’re not the soulmate who reached out to me all those years ago. So why,’ he thinks as he drops down into the water. ‘Why can’t I let you go?’

* * *

 

They find Steve at the edge of the river alive, but unconscious. He’s suffering from multiple bullet wounds, multiple stab wounds, internal bleeding, and a worrying concussion. They take him to the hospital for treatment because even with Steve’s healing factor, his injuries run deep. It’s going to take at least a week to bounce back from an encounter with the Winter Soldier.

After a few days in the hospital, Steve regains consciousness. He sees Sam by his bed, playing the record he recommended days ago. Sam call in the doctors as Steve drifts back to sleep and a team of nurses surge around him.

When Steve wakes up again a few hours later, the room is silent save for the occasional beep of the EKG and the soft click of Tony’s fingers typing away on his phone.

Steve looks at him, and his first thought is that Tony looks like hell. Tony’s suit is rumpled beyond all recognition, and he’s wearing sunglasses indoors to cover the dark bags under his eyes. He smells of old coffee, and he looks like he hasn’t eaten in hours. His clothes smell crisp like fresh air, and there’s a slight shine of sweat across his forehead.

“Hey,” says Steve, his voice rough like sandpaper.

“Hey,” Tony says, the small smile instantly lifting ten years off his face. “Feeling better?”

“Not really,” Steve says, wincing as he tries to get a better look at Tony. “Got beat up pretty bad. It’s going to be awhile before I’m back on my feet.”

Tony hums. He says nothing as he offers Steve a few ice shards, but Steve can tell there’s something big on his mind.

“Why are you here?” asks Steve. “I thought you were in Taiwan for the rest of the week.”

“I was,” says Tony. “But something important happened and I had to come back.”

A feeling of dread pulls at Steve’s heart. “Something important?”

“Yeah, and I think you know what it is.” Tony sits down on the plastic chair and looks Steve dead in the eye. “I think we need to talk, Steve.”

Steve closes his eyes and lets out a heavy sigh. So, this was how it was going to go down. He wasn’t looking forward to this conversation, but it might as well happen when he’s bedridden and unable to escape. “What do you want to talk about?”

“We’re soulmates,” Tony says. It could be a question, but with how cold and clinically he says those two words, they both understand it’s a fact.

“Yes,” says Steve.

Tony cocks his head, but his eyes remain cold. “You knew.”

“I had a hunch.”

“Since when?”

Steve looks away. He doesn’t want to talk about it, but the jugging glare from Tony makes it hard to keep quiet. “Since the invasion of New York?” says Steve. “Since I saw a vision of space and alien ships exploding. Since December, when I saw a live feed of the Mandarin attack and I felt you drowning. I had a hunch, but the moment I felt your panic as you were being crushed by your own house, I just knew.”

“And you thought the best way to tell me was by drowning yourself?”

“I wanted… It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.”

“How was it supposed to happen then?” demands Tony. “Were you going to save me from being crushed to death like one of those teen romance movies Clint loves to hate? Were you going to sweep me off my feet and break it to me slowly with a bouquet of flowers? Just explain it to me, Steve. Because I can’t seem to understand. Why did you keep this from me? When the hell did you plan on telling me something this life changing?”

Steve takes a long time to answer. “I don’t know, but I never wanted it to be like this.”

“Christ,” Tony hisses, pressing his fingers to his temple.

“I’m sorry,” says Steve. “I knew you were my soulmate but when you told me you wanted to punch your soulmate in the face, I wasn’t quite sure what to do or what to say. Should I tell you? Should I not? It’s not like I had any evidence. And knowing how much you wanted my support after everything you’ve been through and how much I didn’t help, I couldn’t even imagine the resentment you would feel for me.

“I wanted to tell you sooner. I swear, I did. But I was afraid,” Steve says, his voice cracking as he holds back a wave of emotions. “I was already head over heels in love with you before the Mandarin attacked. I didn’t want to do or say anything that could ruin that.”

Tony nods. His face is neutral, but Steve can tell Tony is seething with anger. “So,” Tony finally says, “you admit that you intentionally kept this from me.”

Steve’s stomach drops. “Tony-”

“Thereby putting me in a position to, I don’t know, maybe have a panic attack in a room full of important investors when I thought I was drowning the moment the soul bond activated.”

“Tony-”

“No!” Tony yells. He stands up, effectively cutting Steve off mid-sentence. “You don’t get to do this to me, Steve. You don’t get to keep information from me that affects my life. I have a right to know.”

“I’m sorry, Tony,” says Steve. “I didn’t think it was important. I didn’t think it would come up.”

“You didn’t think it was impor- Do you even hear yourself, Steve? We’re superheroes. We put our lives on the line every day. It would have come up eventually.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Tony laughs. “Well, if your last encounter with the Winter Soldier is anything to go by, you do a lot of that not thinking stuff.”

“Tony, I-”

“No!” Tony yells. “You had your chance to talk. You’ve had so many chances to talk. Now, it’s my turn, Steve.”

Steve opens his mouth to object, but when he looks into Tony’s eyes, all his reasons and excuses for his actions suddenly become pointless.

Tony’s lovely brown eyes are wide with rage. His beautiful face is a contorted mask of anger and betrayal. His wonderfully rough, working hands are balled into tight fists and his knuckles have turned white. Tony looks ugly and hurt, and it’s all Steve’s fault.

Once Steve figured out this conversation was inevitable, he’d spent hours trying to imagining the worst possible outcome. But seeing Tony’s face like this, seeing how he reacted, seeing how much Steve’s secret hurt him, Steve knew it would hurt, but he never realized how much it would hurt until now.

So, Steve swallows his pride and says in a quiet voice, “You’re right, Tony. It’s your turn.”

There’s a flash of surprise in Tony’s eyes. He looks at Steve, really looks at Steve, and then the anger leaves his body.

Tony lets out a ragged sigh and sinks into the chair beside Steve’s bed. He cups his hands over his mouth and says in a low voice only Steve can hear, “I thought I was alone, you know? For so many years, I thought I was alone in the world. I’ve almost died so many times and I’ve never felt a thing. I had so many theories about why you never responded. Like maybe you didn’t know how the soul bond worked. Or maybe it was too weak for you to feel. Or maybe you were dead. Or maybe I was just unlovable.

“And now, I find out it was because you were sleeping on the job this entire time. Fuck. I should get a consolation prize or something for my troubles.”

Steve chuckles and that gets a small smile out of Tony.

“And then you come barreling into my life being all awesome and dashingly handsome and… I get it, Steve. You didn’t have any control about what happened to you. But you had complete control about when to tell me and I just can’t ignore the fact that you didn’t.”

Steve nods. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Tony.”

Tony shakes his head and lets out a heavy sigh. “I know you are, but you can’t do this to me, Steve. You can’t go around making decisions for the both of us and think I’ll be okay with it. Because I won’t. I love you, Steve, more than I have any right to. But if you hide something this important from me again, it’s over. I can’t- I have to draw the line somewhere, and this is it. No matter what biology or the universe says, I won’t be fucked over because you decided to keep secrets. Understand?”

Steve nods. “Yeah, I understand.”

“Good,” Tony says.

“Still want to hit me?” ask Steve with a sly smile.

Tony snorts. “I would, except it’s not fair to hit a man when he’s down.”

Steve laughs, but his bruised ribs quickly dissolve it into a strained groan.

Tony smiles. “Anything else you want to tell me while I have you trapped here?” he asks in a light voice. “Any outstanding debts I should know about? Vices you’ve kept secret? Girls you accidentally got pregnant after a night of too many beers?” Tony means it as a joke, but the question hits close to something a little too serious to laugh it off.

Steve bites down on his lip and suddenly, it’s very hard to look Tony in the eye. The truth is on the tip of his tongue, but Steve can’t bear to say it aloud. He can’t say anything about what he’s learned in the last few days. He can’t bring himself to say anything about... Tony’s sensitive to that kind of stuff. And Steve knows if he told Tony the whole truth right now, it would destroy him.

Steve wants to tell Tony the truth. He really does. But he wanted to wait for the right moment. Build up to it. Break it to him slowly and carefully so Tony would not doubt how much Steve loves him. Because it’s true, Steve loves Tony. He adores Tony. He would never do anything to hurt Tony. But this, this changes everything.

“Steve?”

Steve looks away as the guilt sinks further down into his chest. He tries to ignore it, he wants to ignore it, but a small voice that sound an awful lot like Natasha tells him otherwise. Tony can take it. Steve knows Tony can take it. Even if he can’t, at the very least, Tony deserves to know.

“Steve? Everything okay?”

Steve shakes his head and prepares himself for the worst. “Bucky’s alive.”

Tony’s light mood immediately disappears. “What?”

Steve closes his eyes. He really doesn’t want to have this conversation now, but if Tony wants him to be honest, now is the best time to do it. “The Winter Soldier, he’s Bucky.”

“Oh,” says Tony. And there’s a lot of emotions tangled up in that one word. “That’s … great, Steve. You got your soulmate back, just like you always wanted.” Tony smiles, but it’s one of those fake smiles that he reserves for nosey journalists at press conferences.

“Not really,” says Steve, lost in his own whirlwind of thoughts. “It’s like he’s a different person now. He doesn’t remember me. And when I was drowning, I barely recognized our soul bond.

“When Bucky reached out for me, it burned. Like lighting. I don’t know how the soul bond feels for you, Tony, but my soul bond with Bucky was never like that. Before the war, our soul bond always felt warm and comforting, not painful and electric like today.

“I … I don’t know what’s happened to Bucky,” Steve says, his voice tense and ragged. “But I know that HYDRA had something to do with it. They did something to … fuck up our soul bond. I just know it. Bucky, he- he’s not the same man he was before. I don’t know who he is, but I know the man I feel in love with is in there, somewhere. I saw it in his eyes when I talked to him. I almost had him back. But now that he’s gone… I- I don’t know anymore.”

Tony nods, but there’s a reserved hesitation in his eyes. “You’re going after him, aren’t you?” It’s more of a statement than a question.

Steve feels guilty, but if he’s telling the truth- “As soon as I can walk,” he says. “I have to.”

Tony hums.

Steve closes his eyes and steels himself for the backlash. He fully expects Tony to yell at him. Or maybe even hit him. He waits for Tony to accuse Steve of using him as replacement for Bucky. He expects anger and tears and a heartbreaking chant of, “You never really loved me, did you!” But instead, they sit in tense silence.

A minute passes. Then two. Steve sneaks a nervous glance at his soulmate and, to his surprise, finds Tony’s normally expressive face is completely blank. He can see the wheels turning behind Tony’s dark brown eyes, but he can’t for the life of him make heads or tails as to what it means. It makes Steve nervous.

Is Tony angry? Is he sad? Is he disappointed that Steve wants to go off and find his long-lost soulmate? Does Tony hate him because of it? Does he want to break up? Steve doesn’t want to break up. He loves Tony with all his heart. Steve can’t even imagine what life would be like without his soulmate by his side.

But Steve also feels like he’s lost the right to have an opinion on what happens in their relationship. After everything that’s happened, soulmate or not, Steve’s the one that’s made things difficult. And as much as he wants Tony to stay, Steve can’t really fault the man if he decides to cut his losses and leave without another word.

And as Steve comes to this depressing conclusion, Tony pushes his chair back. He stands up, reaches into his pocket, pulls out his phone, and says, “What can I do to help?”

Steve’s heart skips a beat. His mouth open and closes like a fish, not fully comprehending the words that came out of Tony’s mouth. “You want to help me bring Bucky back?”

“Yes?” Tony says as if he might offend Steve with his answer. “Should I not want that?”

Steve is too stunned to be offended. “How- How can you say that? Even after everything that’s happened, you still want to help?”

“Of course,” Tony says, as if the word “no” was never an option.

Steve can scarcely believe his ears. “Why?”

“Why?” and now Tony sounds offended. “You’re seriously asking me why? After everything we’ve been through? After I’ve pulled your ass out of the fire more time than I can count, you’re still asking me ‘why?’ Steve, I am a multi billionaire. I have so much money, I don’t even know what to do with it. I have access to resources you can’t even begin imagine, and a couple I shouldn’t even be talking about because they’re so top secret. How in the world… I don’t… How do I say this without coming off like a complete asshole?

Tony paces back and forth across the room before settling in the seat by Steve’s side. He lets out a slow breath and says, “Bucky makes you happy in ways I can’t even begin to explain. Now, I may do a lot of things that make people unhappy, but the one thing I never want to do is make you unhappy. And if helping you find your long-lost soulmate will make you happy, well, I’d be a horrible boyfriend if I stood in the way of that.”

Steve just stares at Tony. He’s not quite sure what to say. So, he grabs the collar of Tony’s shirt and pulls him down into a deep, bruising kiss. “Have I told you how much I love you recently?” he asks as they break apart.

Tony chuckles as he runs his thumb across Steve’s cheek. “Could always do with a reminder. You wanting to bring your ex back into the picture, it could make a guy jealous if you’re not too careful.”

Steve smiles. He understands where Tony is coming, but it still hurts to think that Tony could ever be jealous of Bucky. And as Steve holds Tony’s face between his battered hands, Steve swears on his life that he will do everything he can to make sure that never happens.

Steve pushes himself up out of bed, despite protests from his bruised body, and offers Tony a deep, passionate kiss that leaves them both breathless and gasping for air. “I love you, Tony Stark,” he says through ragged breaths. “I love you so much. I swear, no matter what happens, no matter what life throws our way, I will always come home to you. I swear on my life, I will always be there for you.”

Tony presses their foreheads together and hums. “Hold you to that, Cap,” he says as if he’s saying a prayer. “Hold you to that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter. I've got three more pre-written chapters left and I'm a little bit worried about getting them out in time, but I'll do my best to try and keep up with the schedule. ٩( ᐛ )و
> 
> Next week is when the shit hits the fan. Hope you have some tissues handy because this is one of the last happy endings you'll be seeing for a while.
> 
> If you want spoilers, we'll be covering two movies next week. Guess which two.


	8. Tony Stark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's not sure what to expect, but it sure as hell wasn't this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up. This chapter doesn't have a happy ending so if you're not in a good mind space, tread with caution for the next few chapters. This chapter and the next are also not very Steve friendly so if you expect me to go easy on Steve in terms of CA:CV, you might want to leave now.

Truth be told, Tony isn’t one hundred percent sold on the idea of bringing Barnes back for a multitude of reasons. Soulmate or not, Barnes is still an agent of HYDRA and an extremely dangerous assassin. But Steve is determined to bring Bucky home and, at the end of the day, Tony is willing to do anything to make his soulmate happy. And that’s why, true to his word, Tony pulls out all the stops to help find Steve’s long-lost soulmate.

When Steve is released from the hospital, Tony’s already prepared a room full of the latest technology and every state-of-the-art resource that Steve can think of. He’s designed a program to monitor any and all information that might help them find the Winter Soldier, and he’s ordered the best coffee beans money can buy for their inevitable all-nighters.

When Steve and Tony walk into the room, hand in hand, and Steve sees all the thought and effort Tony put in to finding his soulmate, Steve gives Tony the biggest, filthiest kiss to show his gratitude. Tony accepts it, but the sex they have afterwards is all the thanks he needs.

They work together to chase down every lead they can find. Tony takes care of the data gathering and Steve is their man on the ground interviewing people and following up on trails they can’t track remotely. Iron Man tries to be by Steve’s side as much as he can, but Tony Stark is a popular person. There’s always some meeting he has to go to or some crisis that need to be averted. The other Avengers fill in when they can, but it’s not the same.

Tony loves his friends and he appreciates their help, but he wants to be the one out there helping Steve locate his long-lost friend. Tony wants to walk into a motel room late at night and bring Steve local take-out after a long day of chasing down leads. Tony wants to be the one Steve trusts to give an honest answer to when the trail is running dry and Steve starts to lose hope. He wants to be out there, watching Steve’s six when things take a turn for the worst. Tony wants to be by Steve’s side when they open the door and finally find Barnes after months and months of hard work. He wants to be there to see the smile of relief on Steve’s face. Tony wants to be by his boyfriend’s side when Steve brings his best friend and soulmate home from the war.

But he can’t. Tony tries, but he physically can’t. His commitments to Stark Industries and the Avengers keep getting in the way and when he tries to juggle all his commitments it just leaves him sleep deprived, emotionally exhausted, and eternally grumpy. His work doesn’t allow him time to fly across the world looking for one man. He can’t be in New York and California _and_ in the middle of snowy nowhere helping his boyfriend.

So, Tony does what he can. He stays up late going over numbers and chasing down leads for Steve from afar. He’s the voice in Steve’s ear whenever things get a little too hairy. He’s the reassuring hand on Steve’s back whenever Sam or Natasha or Clint come back empty handed. Tony does everything he can to be present and supportive and understanding, but sometimes Tony can’t ignore the feeling of jealousy that eats at his soul every time Steve leaves without him.

Steve is spending so much time looking for his past that he’s not thinking about their future. He’s not thinking about Tony. Date nights become less and less frequent in lieu of following the latest lead. Sex is less about enjoying each other’s presence and more about apologies for lost time.

And worst of all, Steve knows that he’s not being a good boyfriend. He knows he’s neglecting Tony. But he’s also not doing anything to make things better. He thinks he is. Steve is always apologizing for canceling dates. He promises that he’ll make it up to Tony later, but apologies only mean so much if there’s no proof of change. And with the search reaching its five-month anniversary, Tony is beginning to wonder if ‘later’ will ever really come.

Steve tries to call Tony ever night when he’s away, but unlike before, their conversations are stilted and filled with awkward silences. Steve tries to ease the tension, but he’s always called away before they can make any progress. Tony doesn’t mind. Or at least, that’s what he tells Steve.

Whenever Steve asks how Tony is doing, Tony smiles and tells Steve he’s fine. But it’s a lie. He’s not fine. He misses date night. He misses snuggling up to Steve after a long day of work. He misses crawling into their blanket pile for movie night. He misses Steve’s warm hugs. He misses brief kisses. He misses Steve.

But Tony can’t say that. Steve has a lot on his mind: SHIELD’S betrayal, HYDRA’s resurgence, Barnes’ return, it’s a lot to process and Tony doesn’t want to add to Steve’s pile of stress by telling him how inadequate he feels. He doesn’t want to tell Steve how lonely he feels every time Steve leaves the country with the other Avengers in tow. He doesn’t want to tell Steve how much he misses romantic meals in the quiet of their own home or how big the bed feels without him. And Tony definitely doesn’t want to tell Steve about how his nightmares get worse in Steve’s absence.

Nope. Definitely not saying anything about that.

And yes, Tony does feel a little hypocritical hiding his feelings from Steve after the argument they had. But in the grand scale of things, Tony feels it’s a small, yet necessary lie.

Besides, whenever Steve asks how Tony is doing, he never really wants to know the truth. Not really. Steve just wants an in so he can vent. Steve wants to talk about how frustrating his day was. How a lead didn’t pan out. How they hit a dead end. We thought we saw Bucky, but it was really a bunch of parkouring cosplayers. They looked awesome, but fuck. For a few minutes, I really thought we were close.

And every time this happens, Tony just smiles and nods. He reassures Steve that he’s on the right path and that they’ll find Bucky eventually.

But there’s only so many lies Tony can spin before the truth begins to haunt him. And shortly after that, Tony’s insecurities crawl out of the shadows.

What if this is the beginning of the end of their relationship? Steve clearly cares more about finding Bucky than he cares about maintaining his relationship with Tony. He’s been gone for how long? Missed how many dates despite promising that he’d be there? Steve swears they’ll be okay. He still loves Tony with all his heart, but what if Steve is wrong about that too?

What happens when he finally brings Bucky home? Will things go back to the way they were before? Which ‘before’ would they go back to? Bucky is still Steve’s soulmate. Would Steve resume his relationship with Tony? Would he go back to being with his long-lost sweetheart Bucky? Tony hopes it isn’t the latter.

But who knows? There’s always a third option. If Steve and Tony are still a thing after all this blows over, Tony’s more than okay with Steve resuming his relationship with Bucky. At least, he thinks he is. Tony isn’t new to the idea of sharing partners. He’s been at the center of a few polyamorous relationships before. But what about Steve? How would he feel about that? Tony and Steve never talked about what would happen if and when Bucky came back. Would _they_ still be a thing? And what about Bucky? What would he think about sharing Steve with Tony? Would he be confused about it? Open to it? Hate it?

Steve and Bucky, they’re from another time. Relationships ran on a different set of rules back in the 40s. How would they react if Tony brought up the idea of a polyamorous relationship? Would they be able to adjust? Would they be willing to adjust? What happens if they can’t? What happens to Tony if Steve and Bucky can’t accept him in their life?

Because, let’s face it, Tony is the odd man out in this relationship. Tony may be Steve’s soulmate, but so is Bucky. Steve and Bucky have literal years of history together. Tony doesn’t. Steve and Bucky have been together since they were kids. They’ve seen each other grow up. They’ve experienced the best and worst moments of their lives side by side. They’ve been to war, lost each other in the heat of battle only to be reunited again years later.

How can Tony compete with that? He can’t. The only thing Tony can offer Steve is money, baggage, and a bed full of trauma. Who in their right mind would want a soulmate like that?

And as much as Tony wants Steve to bring his soulmate home, he can’t help but think about what will happen when this game of cat and mouse comes to an end.

He hopes that when Steve brings Bucky home, things will go back to normal. Just Steve and Tony living their lives together with a plus one on the side. But the longer Steve is gone, the more insecurities and doubts plague Tony mind.

What if Steve decides he doesn’t want to be with Tony anymore? What if he figures out that having Tony as a boyfriend is too much of a hassle? What if he resumes his relationship with Bucky and decides to dump the dead weight before things get too complicated? What would happen then?

Would Steve tell him? Would he keep it a secret? Would he drop hints or would he slowly push Tony away to make the break up easier for the both of them? Maybe that’s why Steve’s been canceling their plans as of late. Maybe this is Steve’s subtle way of saying he doesn’t want to be with Tony anymore. Maybe this is his way of saying he wants to be with Bucky more than he wants to be with Tony.

Maybe… Maybe this is the end of their relationship. It wouldn’t take much. No need for a messy fight or a drawn out break up. Tony would just wake up one morning to an informal text saying they’re done. Put Steve’s stuff in his room. He’s in love with winter’s pastures. Or maybe, just maybe, Steve will take off in search of his soulmate and never come back.

…

Tony doesn’t want to think about the future anymore. His brain is being stupid and it’s coming up with stupid, impossible scenarios that would never happen in a thousand years. He needs to stop letting his imagination run wild and focus on the mission at hand. Tony knows Steve. He loves Steve. Steve would never do something like that.

…

Unless he did. Unless Steve does. Tony doesn’t know everything about Steve. He knows a lot, but he doesn’t know everything. It could happen. Doesn’t mean it will, but it could. Steve goes radio silent a lot. Something about not wanting to spook Bucky if he’s listening in. It could happen then.

Steve could request radio silence like he always does and then, when he’s supposed to check in a few days later, just not respond. If Steve goes silent, Tony may never hear from his soulmate again. It’s not likely to happen, but it could. Tony’s had exes ghost him before. He knows what to expect. But it won’t happen. Steve’s not like that. Tony’s sure of it. Like 72% sure of it. Or maybe 68%.

Until Tony is 100% sure Steve isn’t going to ghost him, he does what he can. He smiles and plays the role of the good boyfriend. He waits for his soulmate to come home and watches silently as the man he loves wanders farther and farther away. Tony wants to talk to Steve, but knowing how much effort is going into finding Bucky and how little effort is being devoted into maintaining their relationship, Tony’s not quite sure if he can. Is he allowed to be worried about something that’s barely a relationship? Is he allowed to be anxious about the fact that the love of his life might leave him for another man? Tony’s not sure.

But there is one thing he does know; no matter what happens, Tony’s not going to stand idly by and just let Steve go. After everything he’s been through to find his soulmate, after years of feeling alone, after hours of researching for the tiniest hint as to who or where his soulmate might be, Tony’s determined to fight the universe and death if he has to if it means keeping Steve by his side.

Then, one day, in the snow-topped mountains of a remote castle, the universe decides to test Tony’s resolve.

* * *

 

Tony is in a living nightmare. A bit of dream logic is at play, but it feels too real to be a dream. He feels the ground tremble underneath his feet as alien ships fly overhead. The air is thin and the Earth is a bright, vibrant blue as spaceships, filled to the brim with bloodthirsty Chitauri, race toward the defenseless surface.

Tony rushes forward to help, but a low groan stops him in his tracks. He sees his friends strewn across jagged rock, their eyes vacant and their bodies twisted in unnatural ways. Lifeless. Silent. Dead. He sees a familiar red, white, and blue shield lying broken beside an unmoving Captain America. Tony calls his name, but Steve doesn’t wake up.

A wave of fear washes over him. Tony runs over to Steve’s side, but he fears it’s too late. Steve’s face is deathly pale. His uniform is soaked with blood. He’s breathing, but each breath he takes grows weaker and weaker with each passing second.

Tony tries to look for help, but he’s the only Avenger left alive. He has no medical supplies, no armor, no weapons, and no way to stop the bleeding. There’s not much he can do in this state, unless…

Tony closes his eyes. He thinks of Steve and tries to reach out to his soulmate.

But it doesn’t work. The soul bond doesn’t activate. Tony feels nothing. He can’t feel Steve. He can’t hear his soulmate’s last thoughts. He can’t feel the bond that binds them together. The only thing Tony can feel is the fading warmth of Steve’s skin as his soulmate slips through his fingers.

“Why? Why didn’t you save us?” the dying soldier asks with his last breath. “Why didn’t you do more?”

Tony opens his mouth to answer. He needs to give Steve a reason, an excuse, anything for why this is all happening. But nothing comes out. He can’t even bring himself to say, “I’m sorry,” to the love of his life.

Tony doesn’t feel Steve die. Not in the way soulmates are supposed to. But he does see it. Tony sees the life in Steve’s eyes flicker out like a flame. Tony sees Steve’s warm, gentle hands fall lifelessly by his side. He feels Steve’s body grow cold and heavy in his arms. And the emptiness that grows in Tony’s chest as he watches his soulmate takes his last breath, that emptiness feels worse than any pain the soul bond could ever give him.

When Tony wakes from the nightmare, he’s not scared. He’s terrified. He can’t do this again. He can’t lose Steve. He can’t be without his soulmate again. He just can’t!

So, fueled by nightmares and fear, Tony builds Ultron and things go from bad to worse.

* * *

 

The Avengers won. The Earth is safe. Ultron is defeated, but at what cost?

Steve isn’t talking to Tony anymore. He can’t seem to get over the fact that Tony went behind his back to build Ultron. Tony tries to explain over and over again that Ultron was never supposed to be violent. He was supposed to keep them safe. But Steve doesn’t want to hear it. He doesn’t care that Tony was trying to keep them safe. Tony’s little experiment almost killed every person on the planet.

Tony tries to apologize. He’s doing everything he can to make it up to the people he hurt. He’s sending money where it needs to go and offering his limited time and services to those who need it. But when Steve asks why he did it, why did he mess with the mind stone despite knowing how dangerous it is, Tony can’t bring himself to tell Steve the truth.

Because, the truth is, Tony doesn’t want to tell Steve the truth. Tony doesn’t want to tell Steve what it felt like to watch the Avengers die as aliens attack a defenseless Earth. He doesn’t want to describe how it felt to watch his soulmate die because Tony didn’t do enough. And he most definitely doesn’t want to tell Steve about the emptiness in his chest when the soul bond failed to manifest. He doesn’t want to tell Steve how terrified he is that they’re not soulmates anymore because Barnes is back. Tony doesn’t want to admit that he’s angry and upset and scared and jealous about the fact that he has to play second fiddle to someone he will never be equal to.

So, Tony tells Steve that it’s complicated, and Steve doesn’t push for any other details. Steve focus his attention on training the new Avengers, and Tony spends all his time cleaning up the mess so the world can move on. They don’t fight, but they don’t talk either, and somehow that’s worse.

Then, just as Tony thinks he’s finally hit rock bottom, the Sokovia Accords drop, and James “Bucky” Barnes is brought in for murder.

* * *

 

Deep in the mountains of Siberia, Tony watches the tape of the Winter Soldier choking the life out of his mother. He wants to look away. He _should_ look away, but he can’t.

The Winter Soldier ends up cutting the feed for him. Tony looks at Steve, desperate for answers. But to his surprise, there’s no sign of shock on Steve’s face.

“Did you know?” Tony asks.

Steve looks away and struggles with his answer. “I didn’t know it was him.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Tony hissed. “I asked you, in plain English, did you know?”

Steve doesn’t answer. He looks at Barnes, then back to Tony. He’s quiet, but Tony can see the gears turning in his head.

Tony’s a genius. He knows the answer before Steve can say anything, but he still prays beyond all hope that, just for once, he’s not as good at reading people as he thinks he is. Just this once, Tony wants to be wrong.

Steve looks Tony straight in the eye and says, without so much as an ounce of regret. “Yes.”

Tony’s heart shatters. He looks away and tries not to cry. Cap tries to explain, but Tony doesn’t want to hear any of his excuses. Instead, he puts on the mask and punches his ex in the face.

* * *

 

They fight like they’ve never fought before. No words, just punches, and it hurts like hell.

Cap and Barnes team up against Tony. They move as one unit, like a familiar dance. Cap throws a punch and Barnes is on the other side ready for the follow up. Cap throws his shield and Barnes receives the rebound. Their moves are in sync, as if the last seventy years never happened.

Tony hates it so much.

He’s got FRIDAY on his side, but she’s no JARVIS. Even with all systems working at maximum capacity, she can barely keep up with them. Tony does his best to compensate, but he’s a baseline human. Cap and Barnes are both super soldiers genetically enhanced to keep up with the likes of Iron man. Tony manages to get in a few lucky hits, but it’s taking all his strength and will power just to stay standing.

Then, Barnes gets a lucky. He knocks Iron Man back and pins him against the wall. Tony struggles to get free, but Barnes doesn’t budge an inch.

Barnes sees and opening and digs his metal fingers into Iron Man’s chest. Metal scrapes against metal as Barnes tries to claw Tony’s glowing heart right out of his chest.

Multiple alerts flash across Tony’s HUD. Warning about what’s wrong with the suit and suggestions on how to escape. But Tony already knows what he needs to do.

Tony braces himself against the wall and releases a beam of energy out from the arc reactor.

The blast hits Barnes’ metal arm and sends it flying. Barnes screams. He stumbles back and collapses to the ground, cradling the remains of the sparking prosthetic to his side.

Tony hisses as a jolt of energy runs up his side. His left arm hurts again and there’s a weird pressure in the back of his head.

But Tony pays it no mind. He’s got more important things to worry about.

Tony raises his arm and lines the gauntlet up with the back of Barnes’ head.

Barnes turns around and looks at Tony. He says nothing, but Tony sees pain and fear in Barnes’ clear blue eyes.

‘No,’ begs a staticky voice in the back of Tony’s head. ‘Stop. Please!’

“No,” growls Tony. “I won’t stop. Not after he stole everything I love.”

Tony shoots. He hits Barnes’ once, twice, before Cap blocks Tony from firing the finishing blow.

Cap gets in close, so the only thing Tony can do is focus on the person in front on him. Tony tries push Cap back. He wants Barnes, not Cap. But Cap won’t let him. He keeps the fight at close range. He attacks Tony like a punching bag. It hurts so much. Tony bares his teeth and retaliates by blasting through all of Cap’s weakness.

They go back and forth just like they used to. Only this time, they aren’t fighting bad guys. They’re fighting each other. They’re equally matched, and that’s what makes it hard.

“Stand down, Cap,” says Tony as he soldiers on through the pain. “I don’t need you. I just want Barnes.”

“I can’t do that,” says Cap as he fights for breath. “He’s my soulmate.”

Tony grimaces as the last spark of hope that Steve might still be his shrivels up and dies. “So was I.”

Tony goes in for the kill, but rage does things to a man. He focuses too much on what’s in front of him and not what’s behind him.

Barnes grabs at his leg, and that’s all the help Cap needs to best Tony.

Cap pins Tony to the ground and smashes Tony’s head against the concrete like he’s attempting to cracking a walnut. Tony tries to fight back, but it’s no use. His arms just flail uselessly as Cap chips away at his mask.

Cap grabs his shield. He raises it high above his head and shatters Tony’s mask with a single hit.

Tony doesn’t even have time to react as Cap rips the helmet off Tony’s head and throws the broken remains across the cold floor.

Tony looks up, and he can see the unbridled rage in Cap’s eyes. All hints of love are long gone. The only thing left in Steve’s eyes is murder and death.

Cap raises his shield high above like he’s offering a prayer to the sky and brings down it straight down.

Tony squeezes his eyes shut. His hands immediately fly up to protect his face and voice he hasn’t used in a long time cries out for his soulmate to help him one last time.

He feels frost nip at his nose and static crackle in his ears, but as happened so many times before, nobody came.

Tony gasps as Cap slams the shield down on the arc reactor. He looks down in shock and terror as Cap twists the disk deeper into the metal, literally breaking his heart in two.

Tony feels the life drain from the Iron Man suit as he sags into the ground.

That’s it. This is the end. It was nice while it lasted, but Tony Stark was never meant to have a happily ever after.

Cap staggers to his feet. He drags himself over to his injured soulmate, and doesn’t look back. Without even a word of “good bye.” Cap slings an injured Barnes over his shoulders and leaves his shield and former soulmate behind.

Left all alone with only his thoughts as company, Tony pulls his knees up to his chest and tries not to cry. The icy Arctic wind pricks at his cheeks like unshed tears. His entire body hurts, but he doesn’t care. His heart is broken and he can feel himself spiraling down into a cold, dark vortex of despair.

How could he? How could Steve keep something this important from him? Did he think Tony couldn’t handle the truth about how his parents died? Maybe. Maybe not. But why did he have to find out like this?

How long had Steve known? A week? Two? Longer? Steve had so many chances to tell Tony the truth. Why didn’t he? Why did his soulmate choose to betray him? What had Tony done for Steve to choose Barnes over him? Tony trusted his soulmate with his life. How could Steve do something like this? Did the soul bond mean nothing to him?

Tony shivers as the cold air burns his cheeks. He buries his head in his arms and forces himself to stay silent as tears run down his bloody face. He can’t deal with this right now. After everything he’s been through, after finding out everything he knew was a lie, Tony can’t deal with all these emotions right now. Anger, fear, disappointment, rage, resentment, sadness, betrayal, jealousy, he just wants to lock all his emotions away and never feel again.

So, not wanting to feel anymore, Tony closes his eyes and compartmentalizes every feeling he can name into a tiny, tiny box.

Tony mentally constructs a wall around his heart. He closes himself off to the outside world and to his soulmate. He locks all memories of Steve behind a heavy door with no handle and no key. Tony thinks about that bond that he shares with his soulmate, how the warm glow of an invisible bond brings a smile to his face every time he feels it. And with an iron will that his father burned into his soul, Tony severs the link that once connected his heart to Steve’s.

Tony doesn’t have the strength to work through how he feels about his soulmate right now. And with Steve out of the picture, Tony is sure he’ll never have to think about his feelings on soulmates ever again.

He’s done. He’s given the world one chance too many. He’s worn his heart on his sleeve for too long and paid the price one too many times. From now on, Tony Stark will keep his cards close to his chest and his heart under lock and key.

Tony Stark has no soulmate and he never will. After all, soulmates are just the stuff of fairy tales. They’re nothing more than a delusion constructed by hopeless romantics so as to give their pointless lives some sort of meaning.

Stark men have no need of that. Stark men are made of iron. And a man like Anthony Edward Stark has no need for such childish things.

* * *

 

When Tony returns to New York, he tries to focusing on get better. He throws all of Cap’s stuff back in his room and locks the door. He drowns himself in work and tries to move on with his life. He dons a three-piece suit and starts drafting revisions to make the Accords work. He dances around government officials like a circus monkey, sending them on a wild goose chase anytime Secretary Ross calls demanding Cap’s whereabouts. Tony takes Peter Parker under his wing and builds a custom suit to keep the kid out of danger. He tries to forget the past and looks toward the future like his father always told him to. He distracts himself to the point of exhaustion, but even after all that, Tony still hurts.

His left arm often goes numb and his heart aches like Cap actually shattered it in two. He takes pain killers and tries to sleep it off, but his dreams are filled with ice and snow and he wakes up screaming. He tries to talk through his nightmares with FRIDAY, but she’s no shrink and he refuses to see one. So, he takes a pill to help him sleep. And another pill to stop the pain. Then another and another.

Tony’s well aware of his history with pills, but at this point he’s too tired to care. Not like anyone else in his life is going to care if he triples or quadruples a prescription. It’s not like anyone will care if he dies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that, I'm sad to announce that I'll be taking a break from posting next week. The last 2 chapters have broken up into 3 chapters (which I think will be much better in terms of pacing) but a lot of stuff has gotten in the way. I haven't had a lot of time to write, I'm going on vacation this weekend, and (as always) I write super slow and basically need more time to create the ending that you guys deserve.
> 
> Sorry to leave you guys hanging like this, but I promised a chapter this week and I thought it would be wrong to leave you waiting and wondering what's going on. Feel free to yell at me in the comments. I know I haven't replied to everyone, but your feedback keeps me going even when the pressure terrifies me.
> 
> Thank you again for reading and I'll see you in two weeks!


	9. Bucky Barnes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's still trying to figure things out. Despite all the damage HYDRA did, a few things are very clear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read Chapter 8 before 2/5/2019, I suggest you go back and read the last section of Chapter 8. I forgot about 300 words when I was porting it over and those 300 words are very important to set up this chapter because we're going into canon divergence here.
> 
> What is that you say? Thanos? Infinity War? What in the world are you talking about ? There is no canon here. There is only angst and pain >:D
> 
> Also, giant trigger warning for this chapter. Yes, those tags are important again and no, I'm not joking. Shit is going to get real and it's not going to be a fun ride down. Please refer to the tags or the end notes if you want specifics.

Bucky is recovering in Wakanda. He’s getting better, but it’s slow going. Shuri swears that with a few more sessions, Bucky’s mind will be cleared of all remaining HYDRA programming. Her optimism makes Bucky hopeful that things really will get better, but there’s so much more than his mind and his left arm that needs to be fixed.

HYDRA didn’t just steal his free will. They also took away his future and any hope of a normal life. And despite Shuri’s assurance that they’re almost done, it’s going to take more than the miracles of science and a handful of therapy sessions for Bucky to feel some semblance of normality.

For Christ’s sake, Bucky is a wanted man. The entire world is looking for him to pay for crimes he didn’t commit. He can’t go five feet outside Wakanda’s borders without being recognized and arrested on sight. It’s great that Steve found a place for them to lay low, but Bucky wants to do more than sit around on his ass all day and think about all his regrets.

He wants to get out. Bucky wants to see the world. He’s been a prisoner of war for literal decades and he’s itching for a taste of freedom. He doesn’t want to do something dramatic like drive cross country on the back of a motorcycle, but sometimes Bucky does wants to say ‘fuck it’ and go get an old-fashioned American burger like they used to sell at Coney Island.

But he can’t. It wouldn’t be fair. Not after Steve sacrificed everything to ensure Bucky’s safety. HYDRA may have stolen Bucky’s future, but Steve willingly threw his away when he came after Bucky. And Bucky can’t, in good faith, let Steve’s scarified go to waste. And it pisses him off!

Steve had a future. A life without Bucky. He had friends and loved ones who would have sacrificed anything to help him. He had a fucking soulmate who loved him more than life itself. Instead of moving on with his life, Steve gave it all up for Bucky. He gave up everything that meant a damn just to keep Bucky safe.

Steve says not to think about it too much. “I should have done this ages ago.” But hearing Steve say that doesn’t make Bucky feel any better.

Because when Steve’s gone off on a mission, and Bucky’s left alone with his thoughts in a remote hut at the edge of Wakanda, he does think about it. He looks at well-loved pictures from Steve’s wallet. Pictures of Steve smiling with people Bucky only knew for a few hours. He watches videos of Steve laughing at jokes Bucky will never hear. He sees Steve offer Anthony Edward Stark smiles Bucky thought were only meant for him, and it makes his heart ache.

Bucky reads through archives of gossip mags as people speculate about Captain America and Iron Man’s relationship. He watches blurry YouTube clips of them holding hands as they walk down the street. He sees pictures of them on dates, at high profile events, or covered in dust and grime after a fight. And with all this information, it makes Bucky wonder what it must be like to leave all of that behind. What was it like to have Tony Stark as a soulmate?

Is he funny? Smart? He’s clearly attractive just like his father. Is he anything like Howard? Is he cocky like Howard? A relentless flirt? A heavy drinker? Is he better than Howard? Must be. Stark stayed with Steve, despite knowing he was Steve’s second soulmate. Not all men would do that. And not all men would stick around when the ex popped back into the picture. But Stark did. Bucky can’t say much about Stark, but the fact that he stuck around means he’s quite the fella. Maybe not the type you bring to your poor mom in the Brooklyn slums, but definitely the type you marry. Must have broken Steve’s heart to leave him leave him injured and alone in Siberia.

It makes Bucky wonder what it feels like to be pulled in two different direction. Because Bucky is Steve’s soulmate, but so is Tony. And just because Bucky’s back, alive and well, doesn’t make Steve’s relationship with Tony any less valid. Steve loves Bucky and he’s with Bucky now, but that doesn’t mean he ever stopped loving Tony. And the fact that Steve broke up with his second soulmate in such a loud and messy way, it makes Bucky wonder how _his_ second soulmate would feel about this mess of a relationship. Would they approve of Steve coming to Bucky’s aid? Would they disapprove of how it happened?

Because, here’s the thing, Bucky still remembers that he has a second soulmate, if only vaguely. He can’t remember the details, they’ve been wiped beyond all repair thanks to HYDRA, but he still remembers the gentle pulse of energy that warmed his chest all those years ago. He still remembers the small hand that reached out and touched his heart, full of life and full of hope. And given his position, Bucky wonders what will happen if and when they come back into the picture. Because, let’s face it, it’s bound to happen eventually.

As far as Bucky knows, his second soulmate hasn’t called out to him since. He hasn’t felt anything resembling a small, warm hand, but time could have changed the bond.

Since HYDRA turned Bucky into the Winter Soldier, his bond with Steve feels fractured and violent like lighting. Steve claims that nothing’s changed, but he’s either lying or he isn’t as sensitive to the soul bond in the same way that Bucky is. Bucky knows his soul bond has grown and changed during his time as the Winter Soldier. Just like Bucky knows that dip in the ice did more than preserve Steve for almost seventy years.

Steve’s soul bond used to be bright like the sun. Whenever Steve called for him, Bucky’s skin burned like his entire body were on fire. Now, the bond is cold and all-encompassing like ice, and the pain Bucky feels in his chest is sharp like that of winter air stinging his lungs. That’s not a bad thing. It’s just… different. It’s a reminder of how much has changed. How they, as people, have grown and adapted from their different experiences. Steve has moved on in life and Bucky is in the process of catching up. It’s not good or bad. It’s just different. And Bucky’s okay with that.

But Steve isn’t. He claims he’s okay, but sometimes, Bucky will say something and Steve will get this far off look in his eyes. He’ll go quiet and get uncharacteristically cagey whenever Bucky tries to talk to him about anything deeper than surface level. He avoids talking about Stark and soulmates in general. He treat’s Bucky like he’s made of glass and quickly changes the topic to something current and light-hearted. Something that will help them forget about the troubles of the world.

Bucky’s not an idiot. He knows what Steve’s doing. But he indulges Steve, knowing full well that they’ll need to address it eventually. They can’t just avoid the elephant in the room forever and expect it to go away. Maybe Steve is convinced that he can ignore how the last seventy years has changed their relationship, but Bucky knows better. They can’t ignore something this big out of pure stubbornness. One of these days they’re going to have to address the nature of Steve’s relationship with Bucky and Stark, or this entire charade is going to blow up in their face.

And ironically enough, a few weeks later, it does.

* * *

 

Bucky’s sitting a few paces from his hut with a book in hand. He’s just finished his treatment with Shuri a few hours ago and is taking some time to rest after a rather rough morning. The long grass swing back and forth in the gentle breeze when a tall, dark shadow falls over Bucky’s face.

“You like you’re doing well. Looks like Shuri’s treatment is working.”

Bucky looks up and smiles at a battered, bearded Steve towering over him. “Well, they haven’t turned my brain into mush, so that’s a start.”

Steve chuckles.

“What?” asks Bucky.” No, ‘I missed you.’ No, ‘it’s good to be back’?”

Steve blushes. He quickly looks around and then places a gentle peck on Bucky’s cheek. “Missed you, Buck,” he says, burying his head into the crook of Bucky’s neck. “Missed you like you can’t even imagine.”

“On, I can imagine,” says Bucky. He grabs Steve’s collar and pulls him up for a proper kiss. “Welcome home, Stevie.”

Their lips touch and it makes Bucky smile. This is one of the few things that hasn’t changed in the past seventy years. Bucky closes his eyes and hums as they fall back into a familiar pattern: Bucky’s arm wrapped around Steve’s neck, Steve’s hands wrapped tightly around Bucky’s waist, tongues and lips locked in a long forgotten dance, and it makes Bucky forget those seventy years of torture ever happened.

But there’s something different in the way Steve holds Bucky that makes it impossible to completely forget. Whenever Steve kisses Bucky, it’s deeper and more desperate than before. He holds Bucky closer and fucks Bucky harder until the mattress breaks and Bucky can’t think anymore. Bucky tries to label it as regret over lost time, but today is one of those days where he can’t lie to himself anymore.

Steve kisses with an intensity that almost knocks Bucky off his feet. His hands rove up and down Bucky’s back and over his chest, kneading and clawing as if looking for something that’s not there. His teeth clash against Bucky’s in a rush of passion. Instead of enjoying the kiss, Steve’s eyes are squeezed shut almost as if he’s trying to forget something. It’s not off-putting, but it is distracting enough that, as they kiss, Bucky is having a serious debate as to whether he should bring it up or not.

Sometimes, Bucky enjoys things a little rough. He enjoys the ache in his back after a long night of sex. He enjoys seeing dark bruises in the shape of Steve’s hands across his waist. He likes waking up to bite marks peppered across his skin like freckles. But enough is enough. He can’t ignore the uneasy feeling in his stomach any longer.

Bucky breaks the kiss and pulls away. Steve chases after Bucky’s lips, but Bucky puts a hand between their faces and stops Steve in his tracks. “Is everything okay?” asks Steve.

Bucky rolls his eyes at the irony. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You seem distracted.”

Steve smiles. He’s clearly not getting the message. “What can I say,” Steve purrs. “You’re very distracting.”

“Ha ha. Very funny,” Bucky says. He tries not to smile, but one side of his mouth curls up into a small smirk. What can he say? It’s a little funny.

“But you’re not kissing your way out of this one, Steve,” Bucky says, shoving a finger into the empty star on Steve’s uniform. “Something’s bothering you, and you’re going to tell me what it is.”

Steve leers at him. “The only thing that’s bothering me is that you’re talking when we should be kissing.”

Bucky groans. “Steve, I’m being serious.”

“So am I.” Steve says, pressing a kiss to Bucky’s cheek.

Bucky tries to object, but Steve pushes Bucky to the ground and starts peppering Bucky with kisses. Bucky laughs as he tries to fight off Steve with his one arm, but Steve can be a monster of a boyfriend sometimes. He holds Bucky down and presses kisses into every available space he can find. Then the fingers start to wiggle. Steve begins to tickle Bucky’s sides and it’s over. Bucky yelps as Steve goes straight for his weak spots.

“I give! I give! Get off me, ya’ punk!” Bucky squeals between pearls of laughter.

Steve is laughing too at this point. He stops his assault and pushes himself up on his hands and knees. Bucky looks up at Steve, and their laughter fades away until only the sound of insects buzzing around the water fills the air. Steve smiles. His cheeks are pink and his face is alight with joy. Steve pushes a stray hair out of Bucky’s eyes and runs a gentle hand down the side of his face. His thumb runs across the bottom of Bucky’s lip, but it doesn’t seem to be enough. Steve leans down and presses a gentle peck to Bucky’s lips.

“See?” says Steve as he pulls away. “Everything’s fine.”

Bucky shakes his head and pushes Steve off with a playful shove. Steve rolls onto his back, laughing the entire time.

“Cut the crap Stevie,” Bucky says, his voice soft as he watches his boyfriend roll around in the grass. “You’re a fucking horrible liar and you know it.”

Steve’s laughter dwindles down into a long sigh. “You always could see right through me, huh, Buck?”

“I’d be a horrible boyfriend if I couldn’t.”

Steve looks at Bucky and smiles. He takes Bucky’s hand and gives it a small, comforting squeeze. “I promise you, there’s nothing to worry about. It’s just stress. HYDRA is getting smarter about hiding their base of operations, and Ross was on my tail for almost a week. I had a few close calls, but I managed to get out alive. I promise, it’s just stress from the trip, that’s all. Nothing for you to worry about.”

Bucky give an indignant snort. “You think HYDRA is a nuisance, and I know for a fact that Ross doesn’t stress you out this much.”

“That’s not-”

“Shut up, Steve. You enjoy messing with him. You actively go out of your way to send him on a wild goose chase, just because you think it’s funny.”

“I’m telling you the truth.”

“You’re telling me a half truth,” Bucky says, pushing himself up into a seated position. Steve huffs and rolls over so his back is to Bucky. He pouts, but he doesn’t deny Bucky’s allegations.

Bucky lets out a heavy sigh and runs a hand through his hair. “Come on, Stevie. You know I’m on your side. Whatever it is, you can trust me.”

Steve doesn’t say anything at first. He bites his lip and looks off into the grass. Bucky doesn’t push. He can see the gears turning in Steve’s head. Best to let him work it out on his own.

Eventually, Steve sits up. He pulls his knees close to his chest and stares into the horizon as if the answer to all of Bucky’s questions would fly across the sky any second now and end the conversation.

Bucky’s pretty sure that’s not going to happen.

“It’s… Tony,” Steve finally says. “I saw him while I was doing recon in Barcelona. Before you say anything, it wasn’t on purpose. I was just in the area, and he just so happened to be checking into a hotel near my stakeout point. I only saw him go in and out a few times.”

Bucky’s gives Steve a look. That’s it? That’s what Steve’s worried about. “Steve, I’m not going to get mad about you checking in on your ex.”

“It’s not just that,” Steve says, squeezing his legs close to his chest. “He’s lost a lot of weight. I don’t think he’s been eating. I’m… worried about him.”

“You could always call him,” says Bucky, thinking about the burner phone Steve keeps strapped to his waist.

Steve shakes his head. “No. That phone is for incoming calls only. Besides, I’ve made my choice. He made his.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. He wishes he had both arms so he could bury his face in his hands at how stupidly stubborn Steve is acting. “Look, Steve, I’m honored that you picked me, but Stark’s still your soulmate. Yeah, sometimes I get jealous of what you guys had, but that doesn’t mean you have to cut off all communication with him just because I’m back. We could always-”

“No,” Steve cuts Bucky off before he can finish. “I chose you. And he chose the Accords. We both made our decisions. Now, we have to live with the consequences.”

Bucky runs a frustrated hand through his hair and sighs. “You know this really isn’t about the Accords, right?”

“What?”

“This fight you guys are having,” Bucky says. “It’s not about the Accords.”

“What are you saying? Of course it’s about the Accords,” says Steve. “He was practically begging me to sign the damn thing before he came after you. And you know the second I pick up the phone he’s going to call me a traitor for not signing the damn thing and tell me to turn myself over.”

“No, he isn’t,” Bucky says, resisting the urge to smack Steve upside the head. “I might not know Stark as well as you do, but I know damn well that the issue you two have with each other is more complicated than a stupid signature. If the Accords were really the cause of your fight, you wouldn’t be secretly stalking Stark or complaining to me about how tired and sick Stark looks all the time. You’d be dead set on getting back at those politicians who made the stupid Accords, hit them where it hurts, and figuring out a way to stop this stupid agreement in its tracks.

“No, the Sokovia Accords was just the catalyst for this little drama fest that’s been brewing between you and Stark ever since I came back into the picture.”

“And what might that be?” asks Steve.

“You choose me over Stark, and Stark’s fucking pissed.”

“You’re my soulmate.”

“So is he!”

“You were in trouble,” Steve yells back. “They were going to bring you in at gunpoint.”

“You stepping in didn’t stop that from happening.”

“Zemo triggered you. You said there were other super soldiers we needed to take care of. We didn’t have time to get permission from whatever government agency was overseeing the Avengers.”

“We could have figured a way out that didn’t involve burning every bridge you had at your disposal.”

“We didn’t have time.”

“You could have fucking made time!” yells Bucky. “Divide and conquer. Communicate with your troops. That’s what a good leader does. Or did you not see Stark come to rescue our asses when Sam told him what the hell was going on.”

Steve tries to object, but he knows Bucky is right. So instead of admitting defeat like a real man, Steve turns his attention toward the empty hills and waits for them to save him. When no distractions appear, Steve lets out a heavy sigh.

“You’ve been through so much, it wouldn’t be fair to you. Tony- he wouldn’t understand,” he says in a voice full of regret.

Bucky shrugs. “Maybe he would. Maybe he wouldn’t. We’ll never know because you took that choice away from him.

“And now,” Bucky says remembering Stark’s face as he watched that damn video, “he hates me because I killed his parents. Rightfully so, but it still hurts.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Bucky,” Steve reassures him. “You weren’t yourself.”

“Still doesn’t erase my part in it,” Bucky says. “All those people I killed. HYDRA may be out of my head, but I still see them whenever I close my eyes. I still feel guilty about every one of those deaths.”

Steve leans over and buries his face in the crook of Bucky’s neck. “I’m sorry, Buck. I’m sorry you had to go through all that alone. But we’re together, now. And we’ll find a way to fix it. I promise.”

Bucky’s mouth turns up into a small smile, but he doesn’t believe a word Steve is saying. Not really. This isn’t the sort of thing that you fix. Not in the way Steve’s thinking at least. They can’t punch their way into making things better. They can’t bring people back from the dead. They can’t fill the vacant hole left after a friend or loved one has died at Bucky’s hand.

No, this is something Bucky has to atone for on his own. He’s not sure how, but he wants to. Maybe he starts with a heartfelt apology, some flowers, and an actual answer as to why a family’s father, son, mother, or sister didn’t make it home before dark. Maybe he visits the graves of all the people he killed and asks for forgiveness. Maybe goes and buries all the ones that were never found. Maybe the government is right. Maybe he should turn himself in and serve time for the crimes he’s committed. Going to jail for murder is the legal thing to do.

But whatever Bucky needs to do to make amends, he can’t do it here in the safety of Wakanda. T’Challa is nice and Shuri’s treatment is definitely helping Bucky get better. But for some reason, Bucky can’t shake the feeling that he’s needed more out there than he is in here.

Steve lets out a yawn and pulls Bucky’s attention away from his internal struggles. “I’m so tired, Buck,” Steve says. “Can barely keep my eyes open.”

Bucky stifles a yawn. “It’s okay. I’m feeling a little tired too. Why don’t we go inside and rest for a few minutes?” he says, pushing himself up and out of the grass.

“Good idea,” Steve murmurs. He stands up and slowly follows Bucky back to the simple hut. “Not feeling too good. Head hurts.”

“Me too,” says Bucky as a dull ache forms under his temple. Which is unusual. Bucky doesn’t get headaches often. Now that he thinks about it, Bucky can’t remember the last time he had a headache.

He tries to shake it away, but the pain intensifies. Bucky tries to stand, but a sudden dizzy spell renders him immobile. His stomach turns and Bucky has to cover his mouth to stop from throwing up. He closes his eyes and tries to calm down, but so many things feel wrong. He feels sick. The world is spinning around him. Bucky’s hand flies to his throat as he lets out a raged cough. He tries to focus on his breathing, but each breath he takes is faster and shallower than the last.

Bucky looks to his soulmate for help, but Steve is in no shape to offer any assistance. He’s bent over at the waist and barely able to stand. Each breath he takes is accompanied by a sharp wheeze. His face is pale like he’s having an asthma attack. Except Steve hasn’t had an asthma attack since the serum.

“Steve?” Bucky rasps. “What’s going on?”

Steve looks up at Bucky. His face reveals a mess of emotions that range from fear and regret all the way to grief. Tears are forming at the corner of his eyes. Steve’s lips tremble as he struggles to speak. When he does, Steve’s answer is a single word.

“Tony.”

Steve’s eyes roll back into his head. His legs give out and he collapses onto the ground.

“Steve!” Bucky rushes over to Steve’s side, but he too is pulled down by some invisible force. Bucky tries to fight it, but the pull is too strong to resist. His vision blurs and eventually fades as he’s pulled down, down into the darkness.

Bucky can still feel the faint tickle of grass under his fingers, but his senses are overwhelmed by a presence as thick and as heavy as tar. He tries to cry out, but when Bucky opens his mouth, he’s assaulted by a feeling of viscous liquid sliding down his throat and filling his lungs. It makes Bucky feel sick. He tries to cough it out, but the tar isn’t really there. It’s all in his mind, or at least in the mind of Bucky’s soul mate. He wills his body to move, but no matter how hard he tries, he’s frozen in place.

It reminds Bucky of HYDRA’s cryogenic chamber where they hid him away for years, but it’s also not like cryo. Cryo is cold and tastes like metal. This doesn’t feel cold. It just feels heavy and unyielding. Like a thousand eyes looking down on him, crushing him beneath their gaze, yet expecting greatness. And no matter what he tries, he can’t escape. He’s been fighting for years and years, but there’s only so much he can give.

He’s tired now. He’s so tired and alone now. Everyone important in his life has left, abandoned, or betrayed him. Once upon a time, he was strong. He used to be bright like a star. But even stars have their limits. They can only burn so long before they’re crushed by gravity.

With a glass of whiskey in one hand and an empty bottle of sleeping pills in the other, he’s decided to end it. Nothing flashy like everyone expected of him. That wasn’t his style, not really. Besides, he didn’t want to make thing too hard on his soulmate. Falling asleep would at least hurt less than jumping off a building.

‘No,’ Bucky thinks, realizing these thoughts aren’t his own. ‘This isn’t the way to go.’

Bucky desperately tries to send his soulmate some form of encouragement through the soul bond, like he’s done for Steve so many times before. But something is wrong. The soul bond drowns his words before Bucky can even speak them. He tries to send some warmth through, but it’s like there’s a wall separating them. And no matter how hard Bucky tries to communicate with his soulmate, his words bounce back at him like a rubber ball.

Bucky claws for breath as he presses against the invisible boundary separating them. ‘Please, whoever you are, please let me in. I just want to help.’

The wall ripples under his fingers, but doesn’t disappear.

Hope flickers like a dying ember in Bucky’s chest. ‘You can hear me?’

Another wave passes through the wall, smaller, sadder.

‘It’s fine. You don’t have to do anything. Just show me where you are.’

The wall shudders. Then, a light appears in the darkness. Bucky moves toward it, trying to get a better look.

It’s a window. A weird, very small mental window. The glass is tinted, like that of a one-way mirror and the surface is covered in dirt and grime. Dark particles float in the dim light, like dust in a long-forgotten room. Bucky fans them away. He looks through the window, but he doesn’t seem much.

His soulmate is lying still in a bed too big for him, in a house with too many empty rooms. The bed is cold now; but once upon a time, it was warm and the house was full of life. He’d wake up every morning to a kiss and a warm smile. Breakfast was a small event, made of sleepy faces, cold cereal, and hot coffee. Back then, the entire building was alive and full of people.

But they’re all gone now. They’ve abandoned him. They’ve moved on and allied themselves with someone else, someone better than him. They ditched him in a giant explosion and left him to clean up their mess without even considering the destruction they left in their wake.

And now, he’s alone. Just him in a room with some pills and a glass. Everything hurts, but he takes comfort in the fact that it’ll be over soon. He’s put his affairs in order, said goodbye to his closest friends, and ordered his AI not to interfere with his plans. All he has to do now is relax and go to sleep. When he closes his eyes for the last time, the pain will stop. Everything wrong in his life will stop. And the world will move on without him just like it was meant to be.

‘No.’ Bucky balls his hand into a tight fist and tries to break through the barrier, but the never-ending wave of grief and misery from his soulmate is too strong. Any scrap of strength or encouragement Bucky offers is drowned out before it can even break through the wall.

‘There has to be another way,’ Bucky thinks. ‘Whoever you are, please, hang on for just a bit longer.’

Silence from his soulmate, but Bucky’s not about to give up. He’s waited years to hear from his soulmate again. He’s not about to give up on them now.

Bucky digs deep and reaches out through the soul bond, desperate to find something, anything, he can do to help. He pounds at the walls surrounding his soulmate’s heart and prays that it breaks. He calls out to his soulmate and begs them to let him in. But the walls are strong like iron. They’re strong, stubborn, and sturdy. Despite Bucky’s best effort, they never even get close to breaking.

Bucky’s about to give up and try something else when something catches his eye. He looks through his soulmate’s eyes and seem them holding a beautiful crystal glass right over the edge of the bed. It’s titled at just the right angle that, if they let go, it would shatter against the wood floor below. It’s not much but maybe, just maybe, it would be enough.

‘Let go of the glass,’ Bucky thinks, praying the noise raises some sort of alarm. ‘I know I’ve let you down, and you have no reason to trust me. But please, just this once, trust me. Let me in. Let go.’

His soulmate doesn’t respond at first and, for a second, Bucky thinks all hope is lost. Then, to Bucky’s surprise, his soulmate lets out a long breath and let’s go of the glass. His eyes drift close as Bucky’s soulmate lets the sleeping pills drag him under. His hand goes limp. The beautiful crystal falls from between his fingers and shatters across the floor in an explosion of glass and whiskey.

Bucky’s heart almost stops. He did it. His soulmate listened to him. But was it enough? Bucky hold the invisible bond close to his chest, anxiously waiting for someone, anyone to check in on his soulmate.

Seconds tick by and, at first, nobody comes. Then, there’s a gentle knock on the door. A familiar voice calls out from the other side and asks, “Hey, Tones? Everything okay?”

Hope flutters in Bucky’s chest, but it doesn’t last long. His soulmate opens his mouth to answer, but his response is little more than a whisper that dies on his lips. He’s so tired. He can’t even muster the strength to speak. His vision blurs and Bucky feels the light of the soul bond begin to fade.

‘No. No. No!’ If the bond breaks, Bucky will lose all contact with his soulmate. He won’t be able to help them. He’ll never know if he did enough to save them. Bucky closes his eyes and focuses all his energy into keeping the bond open.

‘Come on. Stay awake!’ he thinks, willing is soulmate to stay conscious. ‘I just found you. I can’t lose you again!’

The door to the room opens with a soft creek. A thin man with dark skin peeks his head through the door and looks around. “Tony? Is everything okay?” He looks down and see the broken glass on the floor. When he looks up at the bed, his face pales and panic fills his eyes.

“Oh my god. Tony!” the man rushes over to the side of the bed. He grabs Tony’s shoulders and tries to shake him awake. “Come on, Tony. Wake up!”

Tony’s head lolls back. He doesn’t respond.

Rhodey spies an empty bottle of sleeping pills on the nightstand and snatches it up. He doesn’t notice the other bottle in Tony’s hand.

“Dammit. Not again,” he curses under his breath. “FRIDAY, Tony’s overdosed.”

“Calling an ambulance,” says FRIDAY. “Paramedics should be here in the next fifteen minutes.”

“Not soon enough,” Rhodey grumbles. He props Tony up into a seated position and slaps Tony’s cheek until his eyes flutter open. “Come on, Tones. Wake up. Wake up!”

“Rhodey?” The word barely sounds like a name.

Rhodey lets out a sigh of relief. “Yeah. It’s me. I’m here. Everything is going to be okay. Just try to stay awake, okay?”

Bucky’s vision blurs as the soul bond begins to close.

“Go away,” Tony mumbles as he uselessly tries to swat Rhodey’s hands away. “Everyone I care about hates me. Even you. Just leave me alone to die.”

Rhodey shakes his head. “Absolutely not. You’ve dragged me through too much shit to give up on you now.”

“Don’t. Rhodey, I can’t- I don’t- Just let me go, please. Let me sleep. I don’t want to go on like this anymore,” Tony says as a tear rolls down his cheek. “My soulmate hates me. He despises my very existence.”

‘That’s not true,’ Bucky thinks as his grip on the bond begins to slip.

“It is,” says Tony. “Steve, he chose Barnes over me. He attacked me. He left me alone in Siberia to die. I don’t need a break up speech to know just how much he hates my very existence. Just seeing that look in his eyes, I know how much he wishes I was dead.”

“Don’t go saying that shit, Tones. You know none of that is true. Just- Just focus on staying awake for me, okay? Help is on the way.” Rhodey says, his voice dissolving into a wave of white noise with each passing second.

“I’m already okay, Rhodey. Just let me sleep,” Tony says, in a soft voice as the bond dissipates. “If I die, I’ll stop being Steve’s soulmate, and Steve can live happily ever after with Barnes. Then, maybe Steve won’t hate me as much.”

“Don’t say things like that, Tony. Tony? Come on. Don’t fall asleep on me now. Stay with me! Tony? Tony!” Rhodey calls for him, but his voice is consumed by static.

“That’s all I want,” says Tony as his eyes close and the bond fades away. “I just want the pain to stop.”

* * *

 

The soul bond breaks. Bucky’s eyes fly open. He gasps and it’s like he’s breathing for the first time. His eyes are wide as he claws at the grass desperate for air. He coughs between each breath as he pushes himself up off the ground.

He recognizes the bond. It’s been decades since he felt it, but there’s no mistaking it. The soulmate he felt in the mountains, that was Tony. Tony was the one who called out to him all those years ago and told him to fight. He’s the reason the Winter Soldier stayed alive for so many years.

But something must have happened to Tony after he saved the Asset. Bucky remembers the bond being as bright and as vibrant as the sun. The suffocating water that stuck to his throat like tar, the invisible wall that blocked their bond, none of it feels right. If Bucky had to sum it up in a word, he would say the soul bond felt sick. But how can a soul bond get sick? What had happened to warp the soul bond into such a living nightmare?

“Steve, that was… What was-” Bucky doesn’t finish. Beside him, Steve is also having trouble breathing but for different reasons. Steve’s face is buried in his hands as tears stream down scarlet cheeks.

“He wouldn’t let me in. I felt him dying and he wouldn’t let me in,” Steve says between shallow breaths. “How is that possible? We’re soulmates. Why wouldn’t he let me help him?”

“I don’t know, but we can figure that out later. Right now, we have to go. We have to make sure he’s okay.” Bucky stands up to leave, but Steve’s hand darts out and grabs hold of his wrist. Bucky tries to pry himself free, but Steve is strong. His fingers dig into Bucky’s wrist and, with only one arm, Bucky isn’t strong enough to pull himself free.

“Let go!” growls Bucky.

“No,” says Steve, desperation clear as day on his face. “I can’t let you leave.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not safe,” says Steve. “What about your treatment? Shuri’s not done yet. What if someone finds you and reactivates you?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m not going to turn back into the Winter Soldier on a fucking dime.”

“What if Ross finds you? He’ll send you back to the Raft or worse.”

“Then that’s a chance we’ll have to take.”

“But-”

Bucky cuts Steve off before he can even start. “Steve, our soulmate tried to tried to kill himself. You felt it. I felt it. We both know who he is and where he’s at. There’s no point in arguing anymore. We need to go out there and make sure he’s okay.”

“We can’t. I just… I just can’t.”

“Why not!?”

“I… I hurt him, Buck,” Steve says, unable to look his soulmate in the eye. “I almost killed him in Siberia. I can’t… I can’t go back after I did something like that.”

“Yes, you can,” says Bucky. “He might punch you in the face, but his life is more important than your fucking pride.”

“No,” Steve says with a shake of his head. “No, I can’t. I don’t deserve to see him again.”

“Come on,” Bucky says, desperate for Steve’s stubbornness to fail, even if it’s just this once. “Tony needs us. Do you really want to sit on your ass all day while your soulmate is being taken to the hospital by someone else?”

Steve bites down on his lip, but doesn’t say anything.

Bucky shakes his head. He’s done being patient. “You know what, fuck you, Steve! You can stay here if you want. I’m going after Tony.”

“Buck, don’t do this. It’s not safe.”

“Then try and stop me, Steve. Just fucking try!”

But Steve doesn’t stop him. He doesn’t even get up. So, with only one arm at his side and a bounty on his head, Bucky secures a vehicle and begins the long trip back to New York, alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for depression and attempted suicide. 
> 
> See you guys in 2 weeks ;) Chapter 11 is slow, but I'm trying as best as I can.


	10. Tony Stark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is recovering from his suicide attempt when an unexpected visitor knocks at his door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a new beta! Press F for QueenMaeve! This chapter would not be as amazing without her help.

Tony’s in the hospital for seven days. He asks to be released after one, but the doctor insists on a full week, if not two. It’s been years since his last relapse, but it’s still a relapse. She wants to keep an eye on him in case it happens again.

Tony says it won’t and even if he did relapse, he’d be smart enough to learn from his mistakes and not get caught a third time.

The doctor hums. She makes a note of Tony’s comment and schedules a list of professionals to check in on him throughout the next few days.

Tony keeps his mouth shut for the rest of his stay.

When his seven days are up and Tony is finally released from the hospital, he finds Rhodey, Happy, and Vision waiting for him in the lobby with some flowers and a box of donuts. Pepper can’t come. She wanted to, but she’s too busy dealing with the fallout at SI headquarters. Instead, she sends her regards and a box of strawberries.

Tony smiles and thanks them, but his words ring hollow. There’s no heart to what he saying. There are no feelings attached to his smile. Tony knows they care about him. He knows they’re shaken by his latest suicide attempt. He knows they only want him to get better, but Tony’s brain and heart are so fucked up that the meaning behind their actions doesn’t really sink in. Despite how genuine their gesture is, to Tony’s fucked up mind, it feels performative and false.

Tony tries to apologize, but his friends say to never mind that. They understand. Depression is like that sometimes. And aside from Vision, they’ve seen him through depression before, and they’re more than willing to be with Tony as he goes through it again.

Tony smiles. He feels immensely guilty, but he thanks them anyway. His words sound fake, but Tony knows that eventually, when he’s better, he’ll really mean it.

They go home to the Avengers’ Compound together. They set Tony up with a schedule and assign shifts where at least one familiar face checks in on Tony every few hours, just to make sure he’s alive. Tony doesn’t feel it’s necessary, but there’s a lot of things he feels aren’t important in the grand scheme of things. Like eating, sleeping, general hygiene, soulmates, or just emotions in general. Having trusted friends around to remind and encourage Tony to eat, even if it’s only a spoonful of soup, is helpful for his continued recovery.

But as the days turn into a week and calls from the real world grow louder and more insistent. His friends begin to check on him less and start focusing on their unavoidable responsibilities. They try to make time for him, but Tony says he understands. They’re all adults. They all lead busy lives. They have other commitments in life outside of taking care of Tony, and that’s fine. It’s healthy. Rhodey is still a liaison for the army, Happy has obligations with Stark Industries, and Vision, well, Tony’s not sure what Vision does, but he claims it’s important. He would not abandon Mister Stark in his time of need unless it was of the utmost importance.

So, with a smile, Tony gives them permission to go on their way. He’ll be fine, promise. FRIDAY’s got his back. She’ll let them know if anything goes wrong. Rhodey swears that he’s going to check in on Tony every night, but Tony tells him to focus on his assignment in DC. There’s more at stake than Tony’s mental health.

Rhodey vehemently disagrees, but other than a gentle punch to the shoulder, he leaves without much fuss. Rhodey’s already wasted enough time “playing house” with Tony. He’s needed in DC and Tony’s work is here. It’s not an optimal situation, but they’re both adults. They’ll make do.

And that’s how Tony finds himself alone in the Avengers’ Compound when the former Winter Soldier, James Buchanan Barnes, comes knocking on his front door.

* * *

 

It’s been just over week since he’s been discharged when it happens. A large storm moved in just after sunset. The rain thunders overhead and rolls off the ceiling high windows in sheets. Tony is busy watching the raindrops slide off the glass when the buzzer for the compound rings once, twice, and then three times. Strange. He’s not expecting anybody.

“FRIDAY, who is it?” asks Tony as he takes a sip of scotch.

The AI whirs to life. “Initial scans indicate Sergeant James Barnes, sir.”

Tony freezes mid drink. Well, this is an unexpected surprise. “On screen.”

FRIDAY brings up the security feed from one of the outdoor cameras. Barnes is on the other side of the gate that leads to the front entrance of the compound. He’s completely drenched from the rain, long hair plastered against his face. The left sleeve of his water-soaked jacket hangs by his side like a shriveled worm. It’s two sizes too big and his shoes are caked in mud. He doesn’t move and for a moment, Tony thinks he’s dead on his feet. Then, Barnes reaches for the buzzer and rings the door again. His eyebrows furrow. His lips move as if he’s talking to someone over the intercom. Interesting, but it still puts Tony on edge.

“FRIDAY, who’s on watch today?”

“Veronica Williams. Would you like to listen in?”

“Sure. Give me ears,” Tony says, finishing off his drink.

The speakers around the screen crackle to life. “Tours are over for the day. Next one starts at ten tomorrow morning,” Veronica says. The tone of her voice says she very much doesn’t want to be here.

“I told you, I’m not here for a tour. I’m here to see a friend,” Barnes says, and there’s just something in his voice that sends a shiver down Tony’s spine.

Tony’s not afraid. He knows what that feels like. And even if he was, Tony can summon an entire armory to ease those anxieties within seconds. But there’s just something about Bucky’s voice that stirs something deep in his soul. Something about that scratchy voice that makes Tony hesitate from turning off the speaker.

“Visitors are not allowed inside while the facility is closed,” says Veronica.

“I know. I know. But you don’t understand. I’m here to see Tony Stark.”

Silence over the intercom. “Who?”

“Tony Stark,” Barnes says, enunciating the name like each word means the world to him. “Anthony Edward Stark of Stark Industries. Tony? He lives here, right?”

Silence fills the room. Tony squeezes the glass in his hand as he waits for Veronica to answer.

Finally, there’s a click over the speaker. Veronica clears her throat. “Do you have an appointment?”

Barnes visually recoils. “No, but-”

“Please send an email with your interview request and any questions you plan to ask. As soon it’s received and approved, Virginia Potts will schedule an appointment within the next six to twelve months.”

Barnes silently curses. “Please try to understand. I can’t… I’m not… I’m… I’m Tony’s soulmate.”

Tony’s heart stops. He stumbles back as if he’s been hit by a bullet. He drops the scotch glass and it shatters on the ground in a burst of crystal. Tony steps on a piece of broken glass as he steadies himself on the back of a chair, but he doesn’t notice. He’s too busy reeling from this earth-shattering information.

How is something like this even possible? How is it that someone like James Buchanan Barnes; the man who stole Tony’s soulmate away from him, the man who tried to kill him, the man who destroyed Tony’s life in more ways than one, how is he here and why is he claiming to be Tony’s soulmate? It’s not possible. Tony doesn’t have a soulmate. The fact that he’s here, that he’s claiming to be Tony’s soulmate, it doesn’t make sense!

A cold chill washes over him. There’s no wind blowing through the house, but that doesn’t stop Tony from hearing the cold Siberian winds whip around him as a vibranium shield scrapes against a metal armor. Tony closes his eyes and tries to focus on the moment, but it’s hard. Everything hurts. His chest burns as if the shrapnel is back in his body, tearing his already broken heart to shreds. His left arm hurts as if it was only crushed yesterday. Tony tries talking to himself in an effort to ease the panic gripping his heart. He tells himself,  “It can’t be true. It can’t be true. I didn’t feel anything when I died. I didn’t hear any voices. There was just numbness and static. So there’s no way any of this can be true!”

But when Tony finally calms down and opens his eyes, he stills sees Barnes standing on the other side of the gate, just as wet and desperate as he was before.

Thankfully, Tony’s security guard is the shrill voice of reason that breaks through his fear.

“That’s the biggest lie I’ve heard all day. And I’m raising two teenagers,” says Veronica.

Barnes presses his forehead against the bars and groans. He looks desperate. “Please, you have to believe me.  He’s hurting and I don’t know what else to do.”

“I told you-”

“Ma’am, you don’t understand. He needs me! He tried to commit suicide because he feels so alone. I’m begging you, just let me in for a few minutes. He’s my soulmate. I can’t just leave him alone to die.”

Veronica snorts. “Nice try, but you’re going to have to think of something more convincing if you want me to open the-”

Tony cuts Veronica off mid-sentence and connects the call to the compound. “Evening, Sergeant,” Tony says, unable to standby any longer.

Barnes jumps back from the gate. His lips form an unmistakable “Tony?” And just the look on Barnes’ face when he says Tony’s name makes Tony wish the ground would open up beneath them and swallow them whole. He doesn’t want to deal with this. Not here. Not now. There’s too many emotions swirling around his head and he’s in no condition to process what it all means.

His heart is beating like a drum. His hands ball into fists. He wants to turn off the screen and hide under the covers until his problems disappear. He wants to shake the bars of the gate and tell the man to go away. Hasn’t he already done enough damage?

But in spite of all this, Tony steadies his breath and says into the intercom, “You are aware that it only takes a push of a button to call Secretary Ross and put you behind bars, right? Or, if I wanted to, I could kill you right where you stand. Wouldn’t even have to lift a finger.”

Barnes’s eyes grow to the size of saucers. He bites down on his lip, but he doesn’t run away. Instead, Barnes lets out a slow breath and cautiously walks forward to the gate. He gingerly presses the intercom button and says, “Yes.” The pitch of his voice wavers over the speakers. “I’m aware of that.”

“Still want to come in and see me?” Tony asks. His left arm is still acting up, and he rubs his wrist in an attempt to will the phantom ache away.

Tony fully expects Barnes to turn tail and run. Self-perseveration and all. But instead, Tony sees the determination sparkle in Barnes’ eyes as he presses the button once more. “Yes.” His voice is quiet, but his resolve is clear.

Tony bites down on his tongue. He shouldn’t do this. Every ounce of common sense in his body is telling him not to do this. What’s the worst that can happen? So many things.

Tony’s not sure his body can take talking to Barnes face to face. He just got out of the hospital. He’s in no shape for engaging in a potentially triggering conversations.

But, despite the valid points his subconscious is making, Tony’s never been good at listening to common sense. “FRIDAY, if you would please.”

“Sure, boss.”

On screen, Barnes takes a few steps back. Gears turn and the gates glide open just enough for the man to slip through.

“Don’t come in through front,” Tony tells Barnes. “Use the side entrance. FRIDAY will light the way.”

Barnes nods. He runs through the gate and off camera in seconds.

“Are you sure this is a good idea, boss?” asks FRIDAY as she turns off the screen.

“No,” says Tony as he carefully lifts his foot from the broken remains of the scotch glass. “But you know me. I’m full of bad ideas.”

FRIDAY clears her nonexistent throat. “Sir, that phrase would qualify as an unacceptable thought according to the list. Please try again.”

“Right,” Tony says with a shake of his head. His therapist had suggested that Tony should try to be a little more positive, but it’s hard for an old dog to learn new tricks.

“What I mean is Sergeant Barnes is smart. He could have snuck in a hundred ways with only a five percent chance of being detected. Instead, he chooses to knock on the front door like a civilized person, giving me every possible chance to stop him before he even got close. Why would he do that? He has to be up to something.”

“I don’t know, boss,” says FRIDAY. “Initial scans show he is completely unarmed.”

“Pun intended?” asks Tony.

If FRIDAY had eyes, she’d be rolling them. “If he’s planning something malicious, he’s not doing a very good job.”

“Right.” That’s what Tony meant, but it doesn’t quiet the feeling of dread rolling around in his stomach. “FRIDAY, get the Mark 47 up here and set it to sentry mode. We can’t let our guest get too comfortable.”

“Mark 47, ready and able to engage,” acknowledges FRIDAY. “Welcoming party will be at your position in less than three minutes.”

Tony looks down at the broken pieces of crystal on the floor. He makes a note to clean it up later and heads to the bar to get a bandage for his foot as well as a new glass of scotch. He’s going to need a drink if he wants to get through … whatever this is in one piece. Maybe a double if he doesn’t want things to end in a fistfight.

* * *

 

A few minutes later, a polite knock on the glass door alerts him to Barnes’ presence.

“Enter,” Tony says, without even looking up from his glass.

The lock spins open. Barnes walks in, bringing a large puddle of water with him. He looks up at Tony through wet bangs and silently surveys the room.

“Nice place you got here,” Barnes says politely as he slides the door shut behind him.

Tony is not as polite. “What do you want?”

The curt question catches Barnes off guard. “I… came here to apologize.”

“For what?” demands Tony.

Barnes looks down at his feet. “I-”

“No, wait, let me guess,” Tony says, his mind already spinning a story for his guest. “Are you here to apologize for all the trouble you caused over the course of, what, a week? All the stress you caused me and everyone else the Avengers were trying to protect? Well, I’m sorry to say, but you can’t take back wrinkles.”

“That’s not-”

“Not even close. Okay,” Tony says, cutting Barnes off before he can get another word in. “Need to think outside the box. Maybe a little bit closer to home? Perhaps you here to apologize for killing my parents. Or nearly killing me? Maybe you’re here to apologize for stealing away my soulmate and the best thing that happened to me, which, let’s be honest, I know for a fact you’re not the least bit sorry about.”

“Will you stop deflecting and just listen for one god damn second!” yells Barnes.

The Mark 47 snaps to attention. It aims the gauntlet at Barnes’ head, but doesn’t fire. A warning.

Barnes winces. He hunches over, a shell of the once confident man Tony saw by Cap’s side at the airport. Seeing him weak and defenseless in the face the armor, it makes Tony feel a little bit guilty about pulling a power move on his home turf.

But only just a little.

“Sorry,” Barnes says. “I… I want to say that I’m here to apologize for everything, but that feels too cliché even for me.”

Tony frowns. “The hell are you talking about? You risked a life in prison coming out here just so you could apologize for everything?”

“I risked my life to see you! I risked my life to make sure my soulmate was okay.”

Tony’s face hardens. There it was again. Why is Barnes saying that? Why does he insist that they’re soul mates? They’re not! It’s impossible. He hadn’t even felt Cap call out to him as he was dying. He hadn’t felt anything aside from that last bit of static in his mind that tipped him over the edge.

All of a sudden, Tony doesn’t feel like humoring the former assassin anymore.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tony says as he takes a sip of his of scotch. Maybe if he plays dumb, he can end this conversation once and for all.

But Barnes doesn’t let up. “Yes, you do. I heard your thoughts the soul bond. I felt you try to die. I felt the loneliness you feel every day drag me down to a place I didn’t even know existed.”

“So what?” demands Tony. “Just because you think we’re soulmates I’m supposed to trust you? I’m supposed to let you into my life just like that?”

“Tony, that’s not-”

“And what? I’m just supposed to forget the fact that you killed my parents. I’m just conveniently supposed to forget the fact that you tried to kill me. Forget the fact that you took away everything that matters to me. Of course I have to. Because I’m the bigger man. Because I’m always supposed to be the bigger man. I have to be the one that lets bygones be bygones because we’re fucking soulmate!”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all.”

“Then what are you saying? Why are you here? Steve was my soulmate. Not you. He’s the one that hurt me. He should be the one standing here, begging for forgiveness.”

“And you think I don’t know that? You think I didn’t beg Steve to come back and make up with you? I tried. Believe me, I tried multiple times. But you know him. Once he makes up his mind, there’s no changing it.”

“Finally, something we can agree on.”

“Then will you please listen to me for ten goddamn seconds? I’m not here to hurt you or ask that you forgive me. I’m trying to apologize!”

And it’s the way Barnes’ voice shakes that gives Tony reason to pause. “You have ten seconds, starting now.”

Barnes closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. His hand is shaking. The thought crosses his mind to offer Barnes a seat or drink to calm his nerves, but Tony does neither.

Finally, Barnes answers. “You think I’m not aware of have many times I’ve messed up over the past, I don’t know, whoever the fuck knows, how many years? My brain may be all sorts of messed up, but I know. I know so well the damage I’ve caused and I would do anything to change it.

“I remember everything HYDRA had me do, and I regret every single one of them. I remember the faces of every single assignment that’s been given to me and the exact details of how they died. I remember the names of families that will never see their loved ones again. I remember being nothing more than an emotionless tool to be used at HYDRA’s will. And even though I wasn’t fully myself, every time they shoved me back into cryo, I prayed by some miracle that I would never wake up again.

“But despite everything I went through; the torture, the death, and all the pain and hurt I caused, there was one thing that kept me going. One reason why I’m still here today and not dead at the bottom of some ravine. It was you, Tony. I was so close to accepting death and leaving it all behind, and then you called out to me. You with your soul, so warm and so bright I almost mistook it for the sun.

“You were the one that saved me, Tony. You gave me a reason to live when I didn’t care if I lived or died. You gave me a reason to hope that things could get better despite being HYDRA’s repeated reminders of how powerless I was. Keeping our soul bond a secret, it was the first crack that helped break HYDRA’s control.

“You ask me why am I here? Why do I care if you live or die? All I can say is, how can I not? After everything I’ve been through, after you gave me light in that darkness, how can I stay away?

“When you were dying, I tried to help. I wanted to help. I wanted to tell you that I was here for you. That I would always be here for you. But there was something wrong with the bond. And the fact that you had to rely on one of your friends to help you instead of your soulmate, it just broke my heart.

“I know you’re hurting, Tony. I felt how much pain you were in. I felt the stress and pressure you feel every day weighing me down. I felt you drowning under so many expectations and the only thing I could think of when the bond broke was how to make sure you never felt that way ever again.

“I know I haven’t been there for you, but I never ever wanted my soulmate to feel like he couldn’t breathe. I never wanted you to feel like you were alone in this world. I only wanted you to feel love and joy when I reached out to you, just like I did when you called out to me. And then when you didn’t, well, I couldn’t stay away.

“I know you have no reason to trust me; I’ve done absolutely nothing to deserve your trust, but I’m here because I don’t want my soulmate to ever feel like that again. And I don’t know if coming to see you was the right thing to do. Maybe Steve was right. Maybe coming here was a bad idea. Maybe seeing you will land me in jail. But I do know one thing, after decades of doing someone else’s bidding, this is the first thing I’ve done that’s felt right. How can something like that be a bad thing?”

Tony nods, but says nothing. He looks down at his glass and rolls the amber liquid around the bottom. Barnes is clearly waiting for an answer, but Tony’s not ready to give it to him. Barnes’ heartfelt speech, a fucking monologue at that, Tony listened to every word of it and as clear as his options are, Tony’s not sure what to do.

He wants to be mad. He wants every word out of Barnes mouth to be nothing but baseless lies. He wants to kick Barnes out on his ass and have Ross haul him away in handcuffs thicker than his neck. But when Tony looks Barnes over, searching for the smallest hint of deception, he finds none. The only thing Tony sees is an honest, sad, wet old man desperate for a chance to make amends. And, despite what everyone says, Tony Stark does have a heart and sometimes that heart can let its guard down a little too quickly.

Tony lets out a tired sigh. “You’re getting the floor all wet,” he mumbles.

Barnes looks down. Indeed, there is a decently sized puddle surrounding his feet.

Tony leaves the scotch glass on the counter and waves Barnes inside. “FRIDAY and I will show you to an empty room where you can rest for the night. After you get settled in, I’ll go and find you some dry clothes to wear. FRIDAY?”

“Yes, boss. Sergeant Barnes, if you will follow the Mark 47, please. It will escort you to your room.”

“Thank you, Tony,” Barnes says in a voice so small Tony nearly misses it.

“Don’t thank me yet,” says Tony, taking the lead. “I just happen to be too tired to call up Ross at the moment. We’ll see how I feel about all this soulmate business in the morning.”

* * *

 

Barnes gets the room furthest away from Tony’s quarters. FRIDAY says she would prefer it if Barnes got a room outside, say in the garage, or at least on a different floor, but Tony insists. FRIDAY thinks that her idea is more strategically sound, but Tony says something about friends and keeping enemies closer and that seems to satisfy FRIDAY’s need to protect him.

Barnes doesn’t make much of a fuss about being at the far end of the building. He finds the room to be, in his own words, “more than he could ever ask for,” and kicks his shoes off without much of a problem. Within a few minutes, Barnes takes off to warm up in the shower and Tony goes out in search of something dry for the one-armed assassin to wear.

He wanders by the rooms of his former teammates and entertains the idea of breaking into their place to “borrow” a few things for his guest. They would never know. Sam is only a little smaller than Barnes’ and Thor’s shoes are more than big enough to fit the old man’s feet (even if the smell makes Tony want to vomit). Of course, Clint’s bedroom floor is a treasure-trove of options. Every time Tony went into Clint’s room he found the floor covered in an assortment of mismatches socks and half a dozen wrinkled t-shirts. Barton would never notice if he was missing a couple of shirts or a pair of oversized sweatpants.

… But Tony would know. Plus, Tony is a decent guy. Even if the former Avengers don’t deserve it, he still respects their privacy. So as tempting as it is to go into Cap’s room and burn the place down looking for something to fit Barnes, Tony goes into his room and digs out something he knows will fit.

From the back of his closet, Tony pulls out a well-loved blue shirt with a large star in the middle and an extra-large pair of sweatpants covered in speckles of paint from the waist down. He lovingly traces his thumb against the green and brown paint splatters, and tries not to think about how many nights he’s slept in them since Steve left Avenger’s Compound.

If Tony’s being honest, he really doesn’t want to part with them. The shirt and sweatpants aren’t his to give, and Tony knows he should have thrown them back in Cap’s room weeks ago; but despite everything he’s been through, Tony can’t bring himself to part with Steve’s pajamas yet. He needs Steve close to him even if it’s something as small and insignificant as a few articles of clothing.

Yes, Steve betrayed him and Tony may never trust that man again. But having a bit of his soulmate close by, no matter how much the reminder hurt, it helps calms Tony’s nerves. It reminds him of warmth and light and happier times. There’s a few precious seconds where he can remember easy smiles and being full of love. Holding Steve like this makes everything wrong in his life hurt less, even if it’s only for a few moments.

It’s a secret Tony will take to his grave. Nobody, not even Rhodey, knows about that he does this. Yes, he cut Cap out of his life, but Tony’s therapist says to do things that make him happy. And, as messed up as it is, having Steve around like this does.

But even he’s not about to stoop so low as to chase after Steve’s faded scent hidden underneath the flowery smell of laundry detergent. No, he’ll do that after Barnes is gone.

And, now that his thoughts are catching up with him, what was Tony thinking allowing Barnes in his house? Barnes is a fugitive of the law. He killed Tony’s parents in cold blood. Why hasn’t he kicked that sonofabitch out on his ass by now? Barnes isn’t armed. Tony is a big boy. He could force the one armed bandit out of his house with one arm tied behind his back. So why is Tony offering this man kindness after everything he’s done? Why has he given Barnes a place to rest and recover when Tony wasn’t given that luxury after Siberia?

Honestly, Tony’s not quite sure. He wanted to stay mad at Barnes, but after such a heartfelt speech, it’s hard. Everything Barnes said about his sudden appearance at the compound; why he did what he did, and how it was eating him up inside, it felt like the truth. He looked so genuine and vulnerable as he dripped water all over the living room floor, like a sad puppy caught in the rain. It was hard  _ not _ to feel something. And, regardless of whether he believes Barnes’ claim of being his soulmate, Tony’s not a shitty enough person to kick a prisoner of war out in the middle of a rainstorm.

Yes, he should know better to wear his heart on his sleeve, especially considering what happened. But seeing Barnes like that, it makes him feels something Tony hasn’t felt in a long time. The name for it is there on the tip of his tongue, but Tony’s not quite sure what it is. But it isn’t anger or disgust or fear, so unless FRIDAY alerts him to something dangerous, Tony feels inclined to let this playout. He’s gone through too many emotions for one night. Best to get some sleep and figure out what he’s feeling in the morning.

* * *

 

Tony walks across the threshold of the guest room just seconds after his one armed visitor steps out of the bathroom. Tony takes one look at Barnes as hot steam billows out from the bathroom and, in an unexpected burst of realization, Tony knows exactly how he feels about the man.

Barnes is holding a loose towel around his waist as he tries to shake the water from his hair. His once cold skin is now flushed red from the hot shower. Stray drops of water slowly trace the outline of Barnes’ muscles as gravity pulls them down across his lightly scared pecs and down toward his perfect hips. And while Tony would never admit it aloud, he can’t help but watch as a few trails of water dip down south of the border and disappear behind the small white towel that that only just covers his waist.

“See something you like?” Barnes asks, casually looking through his long bangs.

“You wish,” Tony says, trying to hide how hot he feels under the collar.

Barnes chuckles. The blush in Tony’s cheeks only gets hotter.

“Got you some clothes. You’re around his size, so I think they should fit,” Tony says, tossing the shirt and sweatpants in Barnes’ face.

“Thanks,” Barnes says, letting the small towel fall to the ground as he snatches the clothes midair. Tony quickly turns to give Barnes some privacy, but not before he gets a glimpse of what Cap traded up for. He bites down on his tongue and tries very hard not to compare himself to Barnes’ natural “asset.” It’s not as impressive as Cap’s, but damn, Dr. Erskine wasn’t kidding when he said the super soldier serum enhanced everything.

“FRIDAY will be monitoring you while you sleep. You know, just in case you try something funny. I’m just down the hall if you need anything, or you can ask FRIDAY. She can help you with anything that doesn’t require hands.”

“You mean your robot in the ceiling?” asks Barnes as he slips the sweatpants over his hips.

“Yeah.” And it strikes Tony how unusual it is for Barnes to be so casual about the fact that he as an AI. “You don’t seem too surprised by it.”

Barnes shrugs. “They had stuff like this in Wakan-”

“Don’t tell me anything,” Tony cuts in before Bucky can finish. “Or else I really will have to lie under oath when Ross demands to know where you guys are hiding.”

“Aren’t you doing that anyway?” Barnes asks with a knowing smile.

Tony is, but Barnes doesn’t need to know that. Instead of answering the question, he grabs a pillow off a nearby couch and throws it at Barnes. Barnes knocks it away and laughs. There’s that funny feeling again. Tony’s not entirely sure how he feels about that.

“Sir,” FRIDAY says, interrupting them before things can get too out of hand. “Your evening reminder for the night.”

Barnes looks up at the ceiling, confused. “Evening reminder?”

“Bedtime,” Tony says. “Rhodey set me up with a schedule while he’s gone. He and my therapist think I need more structure in my life. But because he’s not here, I can just hit snooze and ignore it. Insomnia doesn’t adhere to a schedule.”

Barnes frowns. “I know it’s not my place to say anything, but I think you should at least try. You look tired.”

Irritation snaps like a twig in his mind. “You’re right. You’re in no place to tell me what to do. You’re barely a guest. You’re in no position to tell me to do anything.”

Barnes’s head drops. “Sorry,” he mumbles as he shuffles his feet against the carpet. “I didn’t mean to-you know.”

Shit. Tony overacted again. “Look,” Tony says with a tired sigh. “It’s late. Whatever is going on between you and me, we can figure it all out in the morning, okay?”

Barnes nods. “Okay. Goodnight, Tony.”

“Night, Barnes,” Tony says as he closes the door on his unexpected  house guest. “Guess I’ll see you in the morning.

* * *

 

Tony’s right, of course. Insomnia doesn’t adhere to a schedule. He spends the entire night tossing and turning just trying to block out the anxiety and existential dread eating away at his mind. For hours, Tony thinks sleep is impossible and the next thing he knows, its eight o’clock in the goddamn morning and FRIDAY is opening the blinds to Tony’s bedroom.

Tony groans as the morning sun washes over his face. Apparently he fell asleep at around two in the morning, but he’s still so fucking tired. He doesn’t want to get up. He’s barely been awake for five minutes and already his mind is racing. There’s so much to do and he doesn’t have the energy to do any of it. Even mundane things like showering, getting dressed, and eating breakfast feel impossibly daunting. He buries his head back into the pillows and tries to go back to sleep, but at exactly eight thirty, FRIDAY turns on the alarm and insists he get out of bed.

Tony rolls out of bed, offers FRIDAY a paragraph full of swears, and then trudges out to the kitchen. He doesn’t even bother changing out of his oversized t-shirt and boxers. First, coffee. Then, maybe he can sort through his anxiety-riddled thoughts and actually  _ do _ something of consequence.

As Tony gets closer to the kitchen, he hears the faint sound of oil sizzling on a hot stove and the popping sound of hot fat. Is that- is that bacon? Tony stops in his tracks, not quite understanding what the hell is going on. Who in their right mind is making bacon at eight o’clock in the morning? Rhodey isn’t due back for a few weeks and Vision would rather serve Tony a healthy bowl of plain oatmeal than cook up something as fatty and delicious as bacon.

Tony walks into the kitchen and is surprised to see a one-armed Sergeant Barnes humming to himself behind the stove. Freshly cooked bacon glistens on a plate while fluffy yellow eggs take their turn being swirled around in a skillet. Barnes flicks his wrist and expertly sends the eggs up into the air like a professional chef. The coffee machine beeps, and Barnes shoves a white mug under the dispenser just in time to catch expertly roasted coffee seconds before it hits the hotplate. Tony expects the armor to step in and stop this madness any second now, but no. It’s just standing there on the other side of the counter, as if having a former assassin cook breakfast is an everyday occurrence.

Tony just stands in the doorway of the kitchen in complete and utter shock. There was no way this was real. Last night had to be some weird fever dream, right? Because there was no way the former Winter Soldier was standing in Tony’s kitchen cooking breakfast, wearing his ex’s rumpled clothes like it was the morning after a scandalous sexcapade.

“Morning, Tony. Made you breakfast,” Barnes says. Because, of course, an ex-spy would have noticed Tony without even looking over his shoulder. “Have a seat and I’ll be over in a minute.”

Tony, not knowing what else to do, nods and hesitantly pulls out one of the barstools around the kitchen island.

Barnes comes over and puts down what Tony considers to be a literal feast in front of him. A plate of piping bacon, eggs, toast, and plain yogurt topped with assorted berries is placed in front of him. Barnes does noticeably hold back on the coffee and Tony is none too pleased about that.

“Your computer wouldn’t let me access the knives, so I couldn’t make anything fancy. Hope you’re okay with this,” Barnes says with an easy smile.

Tony doesn’t say anything at first. He’s too overwhelmed to respond. “So, last night wasn’t a dream,” Tony mutters under his breath.

Barnes’ smile falters. “I mean, I’m still here so I’d have to say no, it wasn’t,” he says as he takes a seat across from Tony, a second serving of breakfast in front of him.

Tony grimaces. Instead of saying something shitty, Tony pinches himself. Barnes doesn’t disappear. Tony looks down at his breakfast and pokes the eggs with the end of his fork. They’re real, but they can’t be.

Not that eggs can’t be real. It’s just that all this seems too good to be true. How is it possible that the man who attempted to murder Tony just a few months ago is now eating perfectly cooked bacon on the other side of Tony’s kitchen island? This has to be some kind of trap.

Tony pushes his food around the plate for a bit. He doesn’t see any razors or shards of glass hidden in the eggs. He takes a sniff. Bacon doesn’t smell like its poisoned. Just smells like bacon. Tony looks at Barnes out of the corner of his eye and watches the man take a bite of his eggs. Everything seems normal, but Tony isn’t convinced.

Tony scoops up a tiny bit of eggs and takes a cautious bite. Soft and fluffy with just the right amount of salt and pepper mixed throughout. Doesn’t taste poisonous. It actually tastes good. Huh. Tony takes a few more careful bites. Nothing happens. He eats a little more. Everything is fine. The food is safe. There’s no reason to feel anxious.

But Tony can’t seem to shake the feeling that something is off about this whole situation. He watches Barnes happily wolf down the food until Tony can’t take it anymore.

“Okay. Joke’s over,” Tony says because he just can’t take the silence anymore. “Care to explain what the hell is going on here?”

Barnes gives Tony an owlish look. He bites into his toast. “We’re eating breakfast?” he says.

Tony rolls his eyes. “No, I mean, why are you here? Why are you still in my house? I threatened to kill you. Why haven’t you left?”

Barnes takes another bite of his toast. “Lots of people have threatened to kill me. I don’t think about it that much anymore. Besides, I didn’t want to leave.”

“Bullshit.”

Barnes shrugs. “Maybe it is. But everything I said yesterday is one hundred percent true. I came to make sure you’re okay, and I’m not leaving until I’m absolutely certain that you’re not going to try and kill yourself again.”

Tony almost laughs. “Why do you care? You don’t know me. You don’t know the first thing about me.”

“What are you- Of course I care about you. You’re my soulmate. It would be weird if I didn’t care.”

Tony bristles. There’s that word again. “Right,” he mutters, stabbing at his eggs. “Because me being your soulmate meant  _ so _ much when you tried to kill me the first time.”

“Tony, I- I didn’t know. Neither of us knew.”

“Didn’t stop it from happening,” snaps Tony.

“Tony, that wasn’t…. It’s more complicated than…” Barnes tries to talk his way out of it, but he comes up empty. “No. No, I guess it didn’t,” he says, slouching down on his seat.

It almost makes Tony feel sorry for him. Almost. Tony shoves another spoon full of eggs in his mouth and, for a few minutes, it feels like Barnes has dropped the subject.

But like Cap, Barnes just doesn’t know when to give up.

“Do you have someone you can talk to? Someone you trust?” asks Barnes. “If you aren’t comfortable with me, I’d at least like to know that there’s someone close by that you trust.”

“Rhodey,” says Tony, because maybe if he answers, Barnes will leave sooner.

“Where is he?”

“Business in DC. He’ll be back in a week.”

“That’s… still not great. What about the robot? Vision, right?”

Tony nods. “He’s off on some scouting mission somewhere in Europe. Said he was going off the grid for a bit. It was an emergency. We had no choice.”

Barnes frowns. “So, you’re here. Alone. In this building. Only, what, a few weeks after a suicide attempt.”

“Oh my god, I’m fine. You and Rhodey would get along famously if you weren’t … you know,” he says, gesturing vaguely to Barnes’ entire being. “And really? Am I  _ that _ untrustworthy? I’m on my own for a few days. So what? It could be worse. Plus, FRIDAY is monitoring me 24/7. If I even look at a knife wrong, she’d call 911.”

Barnes’ face pales. “You wouldn’t.”

Tony shrugs. “No. Wouldn’t even think about it normally, but Rhodey made it a stipulation in her programming.”

“To be fair, it would be a dramatic way to go, and boss is all about drama,” FRIDAY says.

Barnes’ jaw drops. He just stares at Tony for a full minute as if he’s grown a second head. Then, he grabs a mug of coffee, downs it, and slams the empty mug on the table.

“Okay,” he says.

Tony’s not quite sure where he’s going with this. “Okay what?”

“Okay this. Call Secretary Ross if you like, but I’m going to stay here until you get better.”

Tony stares at Barnes. “What? Why?”

“You almost died.”

“That was a few weeks ago!”

“But what about next week or the week after. Look, I know you’re not that comfortable with me being around. I’ll try to stay out of your way as much as possible, but I’d feel better if someone was around to look after you.”

“Oh my god, I can take care of myself, thank you very much. Been doing it for almost fifty years and I’m still here, so I must be doing something right.”

“I’ll repeat what I said before; you almost died.”

Tony lets out a bitter laugh. “Wouldn’t be the first encounter with death. Can promise you it won’t be the last.”

Barnes’ face sobers. “Wait,” he says, as if he doesn’t quite believe his own ears. “This has happened before?”

And Barnes has that weird look of guilt and pity on his face that Tony’s absolutely despises. “Maybe,” Tony says, trying to play off his near-death experiences as if they were inconsequential . “Just, you know, a couple of times.”

“How many?” asks Barnes.

The number is on his tongue, but Tony swallows it down with a swig of coffee. “I’d prefer we didn’t talk about it.”

“Tony-”

“I said, let it go.”

But Tony can tell he won’t. Barnes glowers at him, just like Cap used to do, and gets up in Tony’s face. “How many times have you almost died?”

“I told you, let it go!” Tony slams the mug on the counter and coffee sloshes violently . A few drops fly out of the mug and burn the back of his hand. Tony winces. It hurts for less than a second, but it’s enough for the armor to fly to his defense.

In one smooth motion, it pushes Barnes off his stool and away from Tony. The chair crashes to the ground and Barnes lands on his ass with a loud  _ oof.  _ He shakes it off within seconds, but when he looks up, he’s staring down the barrel of a glowing repulsor.

And, for a few glorious seconds, everything in Tony’s world is quiet.

“Tony?” Barnes’ voice shakes as he nervously raises his flesh hand into the air.

Tony closes his eyes and reins in his gut instinct to blast Barnes right in the face, even if he deserves it. Because he does; Barnes deserves to feel Tony’s wrath after he ruined everything good in Tony’s life. And, at the same time, he doesn’t. But, at the same time, he doesn’t. Tony’s read Barnes’ file. He knows what HYDRA did to him. He understands that Barnes’ is as much a victim of circumstance as Tony is. Yet, it doesn’t erase the hurt in Tony’s heart.

And as much as Tony hates the fact that his voice of reason sounds suspiciously like Cap, he also knows hurting Barnes won’t solve anything. So, Tony closes his eyes, lets out a long breath, and waves FRIDAY off with a flick of his hand.

The armor glares at Barnes, but it backs down. It returns to its previous position, but the eyes never lose their glow of dissatisfaction.

“Thanks,” Barnes says as he slowly pushes himself off the ground. He gingerly moves the stool back into place, as if the smallest movement would provoke Tony’s wrath. When Tony says nothing, Barnes clears his throat. “Sorry if I-”

“Twice by pills,” Tony says because he doesn’t want to stay on this topic any longer than necessary. “Lost count of how many times other people nearly  killed me. As the sole heir of a well-known weapons company, there were a lot of attempts on my life even before I became Iron Man.”

Barnes’ face pales. He leans back in his seat and just stares at Tony in silence for a few minutes. “That’s… wow. I don’t even… Can I ask how many times did you… you know,” Barnes makes a vague gesture to his head.

Tony shrugs. “Don’t remember. Sometime during my stint in Afghanistan, I realized that there was no one on the other end of the soul bond. Once I understood that, I just… you know, stopped trying.”

“That was, what, about ten years ago?”

Nine years, eight months, and twenty-nine days, but Tony isn’t going to tell him that. “I guess,” Tony says with a shrug.

Barnes frowns. “Steve was still in the ice then and I was in and out as the Winter Soldier. Even if something happened, I wouldn’t have been able to- Goddamn fucking HYDRA.”

“Just stop, okay?” Tony says. The sooner they can end this conversation, the better. “Don’t worry your pretty little head over things you had no control over. Sometimes stuff happens and you just have to deal with it.”

“Still,” says Barnes, looking a bit defeated. “Dealing with all that thinking you were alone. I- I’m sorry.”

Tony waves it off. “Doesn’t matter. We can say ‘I’m sorry’ until we’re blue in the face. It doesn’t change the past.”

“I guess so,” says Barnes, but he doesn’t look convinced. “But, Tony, I still think-”

Tony stands up and abruptly cuts off Barnes before he can say anymore. He desperately does not want to be here. Tony can already tell this is going to be a long and heavy conversation, and he’s not ready face his trauma head on at nine o’clock in the goddamn morning. “Look, I gotta go to work. I’ll just spare us both the trouble and leave now. Okay?”

“Um… Okay, I guess?” stammers Barnes, noticeably taken aback by Tony’s abrupt departure.

“Good,” says Tony, excusing himself from the table. “Thanks for breakfast. It was nice.”

Barnes nods, and Tony makes his way toward his workshop. For a moment, Tony thinks he’s off scot free. Then, just as Tony’s about to leave the kitchen, Barnes speaks up.

“Hey, Tony?”

“What?” Tony asks over his shoulder. He wants to snap, but the something fragile in Bucky’s voice makes him pause.

“I… um… want to make it up to you. Is it still okay if I stick around for a bit?”

Tony stops in his tracks. He closes his eyes and balls his hand into a fist. His first instinct is to say “no.” He wants Barnes out. Wants to leave him alone to wallow in his guilt. Go someplace far away so Tony never has to look at his face again. Tony doesn’t need sympathy from anyone, least of all from Barnes.

But instead, Tony says, “You’re a free man, Barnes. You can do whatever the hell you want,” and leaves Barnes alone in the kitchen with only the Mark 47 as company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait everyone. A lot of stuff happened, but now we have Chapter 10 and Chapter 11 in the editing phase. Yay.
> 
> Also, thank you all for your lovely lovely comments. Reading your thoughts and reactions to Ch9 makes my day. Sorry if I didn’t respond to all of them. I’ve been extremely busy.
> 
> Just to be fully transparent, it’s going to be a bit before I post again. Real life is pulling me in all directions and finding time to write/ edit is a challenge. Feel the need to write Chapter 12 before I post 11, so we’ll see how long that takes.
> 
> This is one of the biggest fics I've ever published and I have every intention on finishing. If that ever changes, I'll be honest and let everyone know. It's the least you guys deserve after what I did to you in Ch9 ;)
> 
> I might be cruel, but I'm not evil.
> 
> Until next time!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [ART for "The Will to Live Comes from You" by Miniraven](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16590482) by [penumbria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/penumbria/pseuds/penumbria)




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